Dreams That Have Stayed With Me Ever After
by Nik216
Summary: A Sequel to "We All Began With Good Intent". Suzanne left behind the heartache of Paris, marrying a powerful man who gave her a job and life of stability. All was fine until an old colleague comes to her looking for help. Will she reach out to the man she blames for her friend's death, and what will happen when she comes face to face with the love that broke her heart? Eames/OC
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Oh my, so I can't believe how fast these words just jumped out onto the paper…apparently I can't leave Suzanne and Eames alone. (Yeah, it's not hard to know why.) So I am so super proud to present this sequel to you!**

**For anyone who hasn't read "We All Began With Good Intent", go read it…because this won't make any sense without it. Plus, you know you'll need the lemon fluff to tide you over for a little while, because it is going to be a **_**long**_** road for these two. A long, angsty, dirty little road…did I say that? ; ).**

**I am so very, very eager to get this all started and honestly I have no idea where it is going to go…well I have SOME ideas , but this is the first time I have ever done something of the sequel nature, so if anything seems off please let me know. But keep in mind, quite a bit has changed since our little Parisian adventure. : )**

**This is where I shamelessly beg you to review!**

* * *

_Los Angeles, California_

_2010_

* * *

_"I don't have any appointments today."_

_"I know Ms. Jensen, I informed them of that, but the gentleman insisted that it was rather important that he speak with you today. He says that the two of you have almost worked together in the past." Nita explained. "Do you want me to have them schedule an appointment?"_

_She sighed as she turned in her leather chair, scooting forward so she could access her computer screens. In a few simple clicks she brought up the close circuit digital cameras in the waiting area to get a look at the people that were standing at Nita's desk. The woman was really more of a young girl, a brunette with brown eyes and a pretty, but plain face, perhaps no older that twenty-five or twenty-six. She was dressed in a pair of simple black pants and a loose red blazer, a bright yellow shirt underneath it and a multi-colored scarf around her neck._

_But it was her companion that has Suzanne freezing in shock. He was handsome, with a baby face that belied his true age; tall and thin, impeccably dressed in a flawlessly tailored three-piece suit, his dark hair was slicked back and he carried a silver briefcase in his hand. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her heart rate betraying her again._

_"Send them in please, Nita."_

* * *

It was a little after two in the afternoon and normally she would have been getting ready for a late lunch, but instead of preparing for another typical Tuesday afternoon, Suzanne Jensen was faced with an impromptu business meeting with someone she thought she'd never see again. They had worked together two years ago in what felt like another life, when she was someone else. When she was new, and innocent…when the world held nothing but promise and nothing could hurt her. But she knew better now. She knew that life wasn't fair, and people are never, ever what they seem.

It was supposed to have been a relaxing vacation in Paris with her best friend, Mallorie and her husband Dominick. It turned into a fantasy job opportunity in the world of dream sharing. It was where she met _him _and had the kind of all-consuming passionate love affair they wrote classical romance novels about. But it ended only weeks later with a tragic fall from grace that left her best friend dead and her world shattered.

She'd let a gorgeous thief with a beautiful mouth, calloused hands and a honey-smooth voice steal her heart. She willingly handed it to him on a silver platter with the rest of her body, and when he vanished from underneath her like a shadow in the night, without so much as a word- she'd never been the same. That man had destroyed naive Suzanne Williams, and left practical Suzanne Jensen to rise in her wake.

She pulled out her mirror and made sure that her makeup and hair was flawless, before standing up from her desk to button the navy pinstriped jacket of her Chanel suit, preparing to meet her guests as the new woman she'd become. Gone was the almost bohemian architect and engineer who had jetted to remote places around the globe to design and invent, and in her place was the Executive Vice President of Software Technology and Security of a multi-billion dollar international holding company. A woman who was ruled by her head, one that was cool, calm, collected, and always in complete control of everything around her.

The polished oak door to her office suddenly swung open and she was left staring at her Executive Assistant, Nita Trivedi, who looked up with an apologetic look on her face for interrupting her afternoon, and her two guests- a tall, slender gentleman and a petite young lady.

"Thank you, Nita." Suzanne nodded politely as she dismissed her. "Please hold my calls."

"Yes, Ms. Jensen." She answered as she turned around and left the room a moment later, shutting the door behind her.

Suzanne took a deep breath and stared at the thin impeccably dressed man, trying to control her racing heart as images, words and emotions his mere presence evoked by association alone, assaulted her with unbearable pressure; reminding her of another man.

A look, a touch…a kiss…_I love you_…

He smiled at her, the dimples in his baby face radiating warmth up to his chocolate brown eyes. He stopped a few feet in front of her and shifted on the balls of his feet, as if he was unsure of the type of greeting to give her.

After all the last time she'd seen him they'd had a wonderful meal and laughed with friends- but that was then.

"Mr. Collins," She said as she extended her hand in the practiced and professional manner that she greeted all her associates. "It's nice to see you again, Arthur."

He shook it firmly and nodded, his hands had always been smooth and soft. The kind that was indicative of a man who spent a majority of his time behind a computer and immersed in paperwork. But she was surprised when she felt a tiny bit of callused skin on his fingers…the same places one would expect to feel them from a police officer, or a man who often wielded a pistol.

"Very nice to see you too Suzanne, you look _great_. A belated congratulations on getting married, as well." Arthur said with a genuine interest.

"Thank you." Her reply was short and succinct, though not impolite. But her personal life was not up for discussion. She inclined her head to the small woman next to him. "And this is?"

He laughed as his hand affectionately came up to the back of the woman's brightly colored red blazer, "This is Ariadne Pappas. Ariadne, _this_ is Suzanne…"

"Jensen. As in the same name on the building," Suzanne supplied as she shook her small hand, frowning instinctively at the weak way that she clasped her palm. Her mother had always been one for telling her that a woman had to overcompensate in the handshake department if she was ever going to be taken seriously in the business world. And tiny Ariadne with her almost child-like face and her big brown eyes was definitely going to be treated like one unless she learned that lesson soon.

"Really nice to meet you Suzanne," She said earnestly. "Arthur has said the most amazing things about you."

She laughed softly, "Well that is because Arthur has always been too nice for his own good." Her head reminded her with a nasty remark that it was that admirable quality in him that had sent her younger, foolish self running off towards more "exciting" men. A lot of good that had done her, there _is_ a reason people say hindsight is 20/20.

"Please," She gestured to the black, oversized leather chairs in front of her large desk, "have a seat."

They both sat down and Suzanne settled behind her desk, leaning forward in her chair and resting her elbows on the smooth surface to address them in a casual pose, but still allowing the ornate piece of furniture to serve as a show of power. It was an age old corporate trick; the one who sat behind the desk owned the conversation. "So, what brings you to Los Angeles and my office?" She asked as a practiced smile slid across her red painted lips.

Ariadne looked over at Arthur and Suzanne's sharp green eyes instantly noticed the unease in the thin man's shoulders. Arthur had always been intelligent and thorough in his research, but he had a shitty poker face. He cleared his throat uneasily and sighed, "I…well, a mutual friend of ours, needs your help."

She froze for a moment and her heart stuttered out an anxious staccato rhythm in her chest, her face managed to remain impassive as she spoke with a slight hitch in her voice, "What are you talking about?"

He closed his eyes and looked up at her, "It's Cobb, Suzanne. He's in trouble and he needs help, someone is after him."

Suzanne's hands reflexively curled into claws at the very mention of his name, her fingers sliding across the polished wood. In a second her well-rehearsed composure crumbled. "You came here, after _everything_ that happened, and have the audacity to ask me to help Dominick Cobb?" Hostility and icy rage twisted into her words, though she never raised the volume above a sedate tone. "I want _nothing_ to do with that man."

"Suzanne," Arthur pleaded in a calm voice, "We were _all _devastated…"

"Oh, you were?" She scoffed, letting the sarcasm and venom of her pent up anguish come out. "Because I remember standing on that beach _alone_ holding his son and his daughter in my arms as they cried for their mother, while her parents had to spread her ashes. I don't recall you or Cobb being there, Arthur."

"I had to get him out of the country, Suzanne. Mal made it look like he killed her, he didn't have a choice." He protested, his voice becoming more forceful. "You of all people know he would never hurt her, you _know_ how much they loved each other. He didn't kill her."

Her back went ram-rod straight at the mere mention of her friend's name and she could feel her blood pressure rise and her cheeks color with an angry blush. How dare he mention Mallorie in front of this girl! She had no right to hear about this, it was personal business and she was a goddamn stranger. Suzanne had had enough.

"_Get out_." She hissed lowly.

"Suzanne," Arthur pleaded. "Please just listen to me."

"He's telling the truth, Mal was sick." Ariadne added.

She stood up, fury raging in her green eyes and pointed at the door, "This meeting is over, leave- _now_."

He shook his head and reached into his pocket to produce a small leather case before pulling out a plain white business card and placing it on the desk before looking at Ariadne and nodding towards the exit. The two of them turned to walk out and Arthur stopped just as he got to the door. He turned around and looked at her with sadness in his eyes, "Stephen Miles is in the hospital, he was attacked three days ago in Paris. Whoever did it was looking for information about Cobb and his children." Without waiting for a reply he walked out of her office and shut the heavy oak door behind him.

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne stood for a long moment after Arthur and Ariadne walked out of her office. Her head was spinning a mile a minute and she had to sit down as her ears literally rang with his words. She pulled her long, thick, ebony hair out of the elastic that held it in a low ponytail and ran her fingers through it with a huff.

She didn't need this. She _really_ didn't need this. She'd said her goodbyes to the Miles' the day of Mal's funeral, and aside from an email or two that she sent back and forth with her mother Marie, she hadn't had any contact at all with any of them. It was perhaps a little cold, but it honestly hurt too much to see them. But the thought that Mal's father, a man that had been her Professor and mentor, had been hurt, and that her children might be in danger, those thoughts were enough to churn her gut with a violent roll of guilt.

She knew Dom, and she _knew_ the shady world that he had dabbled in…and that was two years ago when he was legitimately employed as an architect. What had happened when he was a fugitive? The world of extraction existed for the most part off the grid, in the black market, where huge sums of cash money were hardwired to off-shore accounts and nefarious people got their hands dirty to keep a billionaire's clean. It was a form of hacking and corporate espionage that went beyond a computer, beyond firewalls and viruses. It was the ultimate form or burglary, to hack someone's mind, and it was dangerous.

Was he even able to get to his children to protect them?

The white business card seemed to stand out on the dark wood of her desk, as if it was calling out to her. She reached across and picked it up, flipping it over from side to side, one was just Arthur's name in an elegant black font and the other was a California based phone number. Suzanne tapped the edge of it as she chewed her lip thoughtfully; there was no way she was going to get involved in this. She had a prestigious position at her husband's company, she couldn't, and she _wouldn't,_ put their lives and their future in jeopardy.

She respected Richard too much to do that. He had given her so much…

But she owed it to Mallorie to do everything in her power to protect her children.

With a troubled sigh she sat back and tucked the business card in the pocket of her coat.

:o:o:o:o

The rest of the afternoon had been spent in a distracted cloud. Suzanne tried to concentrate on her email, firing off a couple of correspondences with her counterpart Nigel Roth in the London office. But as six o'clock rolled around she knew that it was absolutely pointless to stay in her office any longer. It had been a stressful day and she just wanted to leave. Between the strange since of nostalgia that had her absently daydreaming at the window about things, and a person, she'd rather forget… and then Arthur showing up out of the blue, as if reinforcing her memory- she just needed to be home.

Suzanne logged off her computer, locked her desk and packed up her large, buttery soft black leather Coach purse before walking out of her office and into the ornate glass foyer of the Jensen Holdings building.

Her assistant Nita was sitting at her desk with her head practically buried in her flat-screen computer monitor. Suzanne let her four inch, navy blue Christian Louboutin peep-toe pumps click loudly on the marble floor to get the girl's attention. She really couldn't have asked for a better employee, the woman was beyond devoted to her and the company.

She hired Nita a little over eight months ago, right before her wedding. Her previous assistant Giselle, an extremely efficient and brutally sarcastic German super-model looking transplant left after she gave birth to twin boys. Suzanne didn't know how she was going to live without her until the petite Indian woman came in for her interview. The gorgeous 29 -year-old with her warm, caramel skin, shiny black hair and her huge brown eyes was perhaps the most eager applicant out of the hundreds that Suzanne sorted through.

She also had the oddest resume; she was an organic chemist by trade, graduating at the top of her class…and the fact that she attended MIT was another gold star. Suzanne being a Bostonian by birth appreciated another girl that had spent time on the east coast. But when she was asked why on earth a chemist would want a career as an executive assistant, Nita had smiled and said that she loved people, but she wanted to work for another strong woman in the business world.

Suzanne had offered her the job before she left the office.

"Go_ home_, Nita." Suzanne whispered playfully as she leaned over the top of her computer screen.

She lifted up her head with a smile, "I am just finishing up. I am in no rush to get home tonight, my parents are in town, so I have the thrill of listening to them ask me for hours, 'Nita, why aren't you married?', 'Have you called, insert random Indian male name, for a date?', 'You are getting older and men don't like that.' I think deep inside they have legitimately given up on me."

Suzanne laughed as she looked down at the massive, ten-carat square-cut diamond ring on her finger, "My parents used to do the same thing. Though you graduated valedictorian from MIT, I think that is more important." She smiled at the memory of her mother constantly bugging her for grandchildren after she turned 30 on their weekly mother-daughter phone chats; though it was funny, after she married Richard she stopped asking.

"You would think that," Nita sighed logging off her computer. "But until I say, 'look, here is so-and-so, he's a rich, hard-working, Indian chemist, or something,' I am hopeless."

"Well if I ever find one I will send him your way," She answered. "Now get out of here and I will see you in the morning. Perhaps we can grab drink or something after work. Richard is going to be in Sydney for another two weeks and I am getting sick of sitting at home watching Netflix and reality television reruns."

"Really? That would be great," She smiled excitedly at the invitation. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

Suzanne turned to leave just as Nita called out, "Oh, Ms. Jensen, make sure that rich chemist you find me is handsome with a good sense of humor."

"Of course!" She replied with a laugh, "Coming right up."

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne ran her hands along the smooth leather steering wheel of her brand new Mercedes with a smile; the black two-door coupe AMG series CL 63, had been a Christmas present to herself last year for a job well done. It was $120 thousand dollars of car, but it had always been her dream vehicle, and as she drove over an hour a day in ridiculous Los Angeles traffic each way from the financial district to their house on Cliffside Drive in Malibu, she figured that she was worth every penny of the indulgence.

She always wanted a cottage on the beach, and Richard had given her one. Though the $40 million dollar modern architectural estate was a little different than what she had in mind originally. It was an absolutely gorgeous two story construction of white stone and columns that left the face open for floor-to-ceiling sliding windows that reached to the top of the 14 foot ceilings, giving a breathtaking view of the ocean that was beyond the 62 foot long Italian glass tiled pool and adjoining 18 foot outdoor spa. The house sat away from the road on a long winding gated driveway that left the two acre property completely secluded by lush palm trees and green vegetation. It was a small oasis in the middle of the over-crowded Mecca that was the Los Angeles area.

She pulled her car into the garage and slid out, locking the door and using her key to enter the house. It was perfectly silent as her heels clacked across the stone travertine tiled flooring and she entered the bright, white washed rooms. Her home was gorgeous, but it was also habitually empty. For all of the amazing, romantic amenities she was lucky to spend two or three nights a month with her husband here.

As CEO and heir of Jensen Holdings, Richard traveled constantly for work. He was currently on a month long trip to the company's Asian/Australian headquarters in Sydney, meeting with high-end clientele from Cobol Engineering and Fischer Morrow in an emergency meeting.

It was funny, she was lonely, but on the nights that he returned to her- the feeling didn't really go away.

She could feel her mind begin to drift to thoughts of _him_ and she instantly stamped down on it. She was not doing this anymore. He was nothing to her but a past memory- a youthful _mistake_.

Suzanne forced herself to think of her husband, he was tall, gorgeous actually, well over six feet and leanly muscled. He had clear, intense, icy blue eyes, light brown hair and a square jaw that showcased his aristocratic German and Swedish lineage. He was always impeccably maintained, from his cleanly shaven face to his bespoke Savile Row suits. It seemed even the sharp citrus, almost metallic scent of his cologne furthered the clean-cut image. His personality was buttoned up and direct, though he could be charming when he wanted to be, but his high IQ and generally extremely cultured conversation often gave the impression to most he dealt with outside their social circle, that he was cold.

Richard was a gym enthusiast; he was constantly spending time there, personal trainers and workout routines seven days a week for a few hours a day in between his demanding work schedule. The result was pleasing; his body was perfectly sculpted without a spare ounce of fat. The only mildly annoying fact was that he had pushed Suzanne hard to adopt the same lifestyle, switching to a diet that cut out most dairy, sugar and carbohydrates and overseeing her workout schedule so she was able to shed the "stubborn" few inches he advised she lose.

She'd never been overweight, but she had a generous set of hourglass curves in a size six or eight…now they had almost disappeared as she shrank down to a size two. Although she did have to give him credit that the yoga and palates had at least given her a little muscle, and almost brought her flexibility back to her figure skating days. And hey, she looked great in a power suit.

She ate a small salad with mixed greens and tofu that had been dropped off by the gourmet food service that delivered their meals twice a week and quickly drank a protein shake. Suzanne smiled at the thought that her mother and her late Memere would have thrown a fit if they knew that she didn't cook meals for her husband.

She'd lost her beloved grandmother just one month before her wedding and it still hurt. The indomitable woman had made her promise her on her death bed that she would live a happy, full life no matter how hard it was to do.

And she made her promise that she'd always be true to her heart.

With a sigh she walked out of the state of the art chef's kitchen full of stainless steel appliances that was barely ever used, and up the stairs to her bedroom where she got undressed and slid into her robe before taking a quick shower.

The bathroom, like the rest of the house was toned in light cream and limestone flooring. A deep spa-style bathtub big enough for two sat on one wall in front of a large window that looked out into the palm trees, and beside that was a dual-head, glass-walled shower complete with a lovely marble seat. She turned on the water and stood in front of the mirror in her black bustier, lace panties and garter belt that held up her silk thigh-high stockings. She wasn't quite sure when she felt the urge to start regularly wearing $600 worth of lingerie underneath her business suits, but she wanted to make sure that she was always presentable for her husband, and she didn't always have the time to change. She looked at herself in the mirror, turning left and right, looking at her pale skin against the dark fabric and smiled- she looked good.

Maybe he'd be up for an extra special phone call tonight?

A half- hour later, Suzanne sat on the huge California king bed in her pale pink satin night dress, moisturizing her legs with lavender lotion as she picked up her cell phone to dial Richard's number. It was a little before eight pm local time, and Sydney was 17 hours ahead of her, so he'd most likely be on his break at 10 am. She hoped to catch him sitting in his office all alone, he was always more apt to talk a tad bit more freely if he was already behind closed doors. But the phone rang through to voicemail and she huffed with more than a little irritation, she hadn't talked to him since this morning.

"Hi, honey, it's me. Just calling to say hello, please call me when you get a chance… I love you, bye."

Her eyes absently darted around her bedroom and smiled, it had been decorated in Richard's taste, too. The massive white bed was covered in a thick white down comforter, white bedding, and a mountain of white pillows that blended into the white walls and the cream carpet. A huge crystal chandelier hung from the middle of the ceiling, and there was an antique Marie Antoinette era vanity with a mirror along one wall, and then of course the his-and-hers two hundred square foot walk-in-closets that were crammed with every designer known to man. Suzanne's personal shoe collection was nearing 500 pairs, and there wasn't one in there that wasn't from Manolo Blahnik, Jimmy Choo, or had a shiny red bottom. It was certainly quite a collection.

But the absolute show stopper was the huge glass sliding window that ran the entire length of the room. The floor-to-ceiling open space walked out to a balcony that overlooked the ocean; she liked to have her Sunday morning phone call with her mother while she was curled up on the soft lounge chairs. Hearing the waves reminded her of New England, and it was a comfort when she was at the house alone.

She lay back and wrapped the covers around her body as she sank back into the pillows and reached for the remote control to lower the night shade over the window and turn on the flat screen television that was artfully mounted into a white wardrobe not far from the foot of the bed. Richard didn't believe that you watched TV in bed and had been resistant to the idea at first, but she'd installed it when he was gone one trip and he didn't have much of a say in the matter when he returned.

After all she was the one who ended up watching it anyhow.

Suzanne absently scrolled through the channels before she found something on the BBC that looked interesting. Her green eyes intently scrutinized the screen as she identified it as a period movie by the costumes, and then noticed that whoever the leading man was, he was absolutely stunning…and then he spoke.

"Ugh!" She yelled out loud as she changed the channel with a huff, "Absolutely, not!"

She immediately shook her head and refused to acknowledge the way that her heart raced and her skin heated underneath the thin fabric of her nightdress. She had always _hated _goddamn 'Wuthering Heights', and now that she had her very own fucking Heathcliff she hated it even more. She tried to ignore the blush, but her body betrayed her. Her mind suddenly slammed her with a recollection that had her very core ignite with a flood of hot liquid desire, and her back almost bowed at the wave of arousal that washed over her skin. She actually felt the ghosting memory of a thick, hard and glorious span of flesh between her thighs, buried deep in her body, her inner walls almost weeping at the thought. Her eyes shut as a trembling sigh slipped past her lips, and the minute she was in darkness it all came back to her.

A broad, tanned, tattooed, muscular body that smelled of unerringly masculine musk slowly driving into her over and over, while strong arms held her close…a deep, accented voice in her ear that was thick with lust and passion as it spoke.

"_Be with me always…take any form…drive me mad…" _

"'_Till I die, love."_

Suzanne sat up and violently jerked the covers off, jumping out of bed and covering her face with her shaking hands as her entire body pulsed and throbbed with arousal, anger and confusion. Tears came unbidden to her eyes and she clenched her jaw, how could _he_ still be doing this to her? After all this time…why was this happening to her?

She could smell the crisp, almost sharp smell of Richard's cologne all over the comforter, and still, even as she slept in her husband's bed-in their marriage bed- her body still called out for _him_.

Anger rose up as she knew that she was suffering like this and he was no doubt gallivanting from city to city living a decadent, hedonistic life with another willing victim his silver tongue and perfect cock had trapped. He was probably fucking her brains out right now, in public, on a balcony in Rio de Janeiro as Carnival went on below them.

Because he wasn't thinking about _her_, he'd left her two years ago like she was _nothing_.

Suzanne grabbed fistfuls of her hair in her hands and yelled out in irritation. Oh how she _hated_ him! It was her current raging storm of thoughts that had her storming across the room to the pile of clothes ready for dry-cleaning and grabbing the white business card from her suit pocket.

She stared at it and suddenly in her frazzled mind she made the bargain that if she saw Arthur again and she helped Cobb, maybe she could finally exorcise the ghost of the man that tormented her. It sounded like a perfectly rational plan to a completely _irrational_ woman at the moment.

God help her, she was fucking turning into Catherine Earnshaw.

With a growl of irritation she grabbed her phone and dialed Arthur's number.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: So as we have read Suzanne's place since we last saw her, I thought it only natural that Mr. Eames get his due time…and yeah, it isn't pleasant.  
**

**And I want to say that I am so utterly flattered and amazed with the response and love the first chapter got! For those who favorite and follow…please just leave a small review, even a few words…honestly, it matters.**

**And if I haven't said it in a while…I don't own anything from Inception…and I really want five minutes with Nolan to talk about a few ideas…**

* * *

_Mombasa, Kenya_

_2010_

* * *

_Eight Months Ago…_

Not long ago this used to be all he needed to make himself really happy; a reasonably sized pile of poker chips he'd lifted off some inattentive soul, and a nice smooth buzz from a really good bottle of scotch. But as the few dice clacked to a stop, _not_ on '13' for the fifth time in a row, he frowned with an irritated sigh. He felt like shit. Truth-be-told Eames hadn't been happy for quite some time, and recently he'd been downright fucking miserable. He didn't particularly feel like examining the existential nature behind his current depression, it wasn't necessary. The answer was plain and simple, he'd made a decision two years ago about the path that his life would take- and he'd made the wrong one. He'd chosen the easy way out, tucked tail and ran like a goddamn fool, and now he was reaping the seeds he'd sown with his pathetic selfishness.

:o:o:o:o

Coward.

That was the only word he could bring himself to say as he stood, hidden in a Parisian alleyway, while he watched the only woman he'd ever loved get into a cab and drive off. He was close enough to watch her lift her phone to her ear and no doubt dial the one he'd just disconnected, and he was close enough to see her face fall and the tears of heartache stream down her porcelain cheeks when she knew he had left her.

And he'd actually convinced himself that he'd done the right thing. That Suzanne would be better off without him- that she needed to make a life with a good man who deserved her passion, intelligence and her addicting love. But the minute he walked back into his flat and smelled the subtle fragrance of the lavender lotion that she wore in the air, and the musky sweet perfume that the two of them left on the sheets from days of constant lovemaking- he knew he'd made the worst mistake of his life.

Eames left Paris a few hours later. He simply packed up his clothes and walked out the door without another look, and he knew he'd never go back to that particular place again. How could he stand to be there when every surface and the very air reminded him of her face?

He wandered aimlessly for months visiting all of his normal boltholes: Moscow, Singapore, Jakarta, Montreal, Mombasa, Bangkok and finally ending up in Rio when the mood struck almost two years later. But it was a constructive time as well; the extraction game had grown in leaps and bounds as billionaire business magnates all over the world discovered new ways to exploit one another in increasingly elaborate plots of corporate espionage. Eames found himself in the unique and lucrative position of elevating his shady craft. He perfected the skills he had begun to work on with Cobb, and he was now able to freely change his image within the dream world with only minimal effort. He now styled himself as a 'forger' and he was the best fucking one on the planet, and _that_ brought his choice of the best jobs and the biggest money. As a result of his efforts he had a rather ludicrous amount of money hanging out in an off-shore account in the Cayman Islands. It was a nice thing to have waiting for him the moment he decided that forgery and milking executives for millions of dollars was a little more trouble than it was worth.

It was sometime during Carnival, 2010 that he got the news.

He was having a perfect cup of strong Brazilian coffee as he sat out on the small balcony of his flat in his morning robe eating a bastardized version of a good English breakfast, when he picked up his weekly copy of the _London Financial Times_. His sharp grey eyes scanned the stock prices, taking note of a few that had plummeted thanks to his recent efforts, and then he froze. A frown pulled at his full lips as he looked at a black and white picture of a tall well-bred billionaire, dressed in a typical boring power suit, with slicked back hair and a square jaw- but it was the woman that was on his arm that had his hand curling into a fist so tight his knuckles cracked. She was elegantly dressed in a perfectly made little black cocktail dress that ended just below her knees, showing off a pair of gorgeous legs that were emphasized in tall heels. Her dark hair was in loose, luxurious waves down past her shoulders and her smile was well practiced, but didn't reach her beautiful eyes.

It was Suzanne.

His _Annie_…and she was getting _married_.

Eames felt his throat close and his chest tighten up with emotion. He clenched his jaw against the fury that rose up from his gut, and suddenly a wash of cold realization swept over his body- this was his fault. He let her go, he let her go and she was supposed to find a life that would make her happy. And it only took him one moment to know from that grainy image that she was anything but.

He _knew_ her. He'd seen that stunning face flushed with charming embarrassment, her eyes sparkling as she passionately discussed her mind; the graceful arch of her spine when she lost herself completely in pleasure, and the way she smiled with her pretty pink lips when she said, "I love you" and meant it.

That wasn't the woman he was looking at. She was reserved, polished and almost cold…and it was because of him.

"_Billionaire CEO and heir of Jensen Holdings International, Richard Jensen to wed in the South of France next week"_

Eames couldn't even bring himself to read the rest of the article. He crumpled up the paper and threw it across the balcony with a growl of irritation. He'd gone almost two years without thinking about her. The wandering gypsy lifestyle, constant work on various extraction jobs, and a good amount of Macallan Gold had helped him with that. But now he needed to see her, for all the reaction his body had to her _still_. Because goddamn it all if he wasn't sitting here hard as a fucking rock at the mere memory of the taste of her skin.

If she was going to give herself to another man, he had to see it happen with his own two eyes.

:o:o:o:o

A week later it was safe to say that Eames_ hated_ Richard Jensen, and it wasn't for the fact that he was marrying his woman. Richard was everything that he loathed combined into one man. He was a pretty boy born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he had been handed everything in life from his education to his job, and never once had to lift his manicured finger for anything other than to order a damn drink. From what he could find, he recruited Suzanne from her boring desk job at Credit Suisse in early 2008 and installed her as the head of his technology and software security operations. It was disappointing that she'd stopped designing and engineering, she had been absolutely brilliant. He supposed he had himself to thank for that as well.

But obviously Dickie-boy had a bit more than Suzanne's impressive resume on his mind when he hired her. He wasted no time taking her out and about to society events, and now a little less than two years later they were getting married at a ridiculously lavish location in Provence.

Fucking wanker.

He walked amidst the crowd of almost a thousand people at the sprawling 18th century Chateau de Tourreau and blending in with the tailored suits as he looked at the thousands of white flowers that literally covered every inch of the palatial estate. There were guests from all over the banking and industrial heads of the world. Eames was more than a little amused to notice that he'd worked for quite a few of them on jobs recently…ironically to cut the throat of some of the same people right next to them.

And they called him a criminal. At least he was honest about being a thief…for the most part.

There was no worry that he'd be recognized, if he had any talent at all while he was on a job it was the ability to blend into the background and look insignificant. He could have told you every dirty little secret about them, and they couldn't even remember his face.

After watching the throng of people milling about on the manicured front lawn for an hour or so, Eames' attention was diverted to a smaller building off to the side of the main chateau. It was originally a charming farm house that would have served the property, and as he looked at the elegantly rustic building- he knew she'd be in there. His feet took him towards it before his mind could stop him.

There was no one around, and it was sinfully easy to walk into the door and find his way up the stairs to a large suite of rooms that had been set aside as the bridal suite. He could hear the faint murmur of the crowd as it filtered through the thin-paned windows, but his thoughts were distracted by the simple but luxurious interior. It was a tiny provincial cottage…just like she'd always wanted.

It wasn't long before he came to the end of a small hallway and was face to face with a large white door. It was partially opened and his heart hammered in his chest as he moved himself into a position to take a decent look into the interior. There was a small sitting room furnished like an old library with hundreds of leather bound books that covered the oak shelved walls, and a huge red couch was in the middle of the floor on top of an ornate Persian rug.

She was sitting on the couch.

A feeling of almost pure agony tore through his chest as he saw her. She was like a porcelain doll, flawless white skin and delicate limbs that were cinched into an ornate, unforgiving corset as acres and acres of voluminous white fabric spilled all around her. Her long ebony hair had been gathered into a severely styled bun, everything tightly controlled with not even the slightest tendril free. Her green eyes were lined with dark kohl and her lips were pained a deep, blood red. The contrast of the makeup only seemed to make her even paler.

She'd lost weight too. The bones of her collarbone along her décolletage were prominent and he swore that he could have spanned the entirety of her corseted waist with his large hands. Gone was the living Botticelli that had exuded life and freedom from every pore and in her place was a graceful being full of such sadness that it brought tears to his eyes. He was reminded of legends about creatures like unicorns he'd read as a boy. Things that were so beautiful they would only come to those most innocent and deserving, and to touch them would cost you your soul.

As Eames stood there, his hands shaking and his heart pounding, he wanted nothing more than to run through the door and fall to his knees in front of her. To beg her please not to do this, beg for forgiveness, and plead with her that even though he was a wretched, selfish and undeserving man that he couldn't live without her. He needed to be with her…because he couldn't breathe without her.

But he didn't move.

Instead he stood there like a fool and watched her wring her hands in her lap until a voice came from behind her and she turned her head to another woman who appeared in a pretty blue gown. A trembling smile crossed his lips as he took in the older woman's stylishly coiffed white bob and noticed immediately that she had Suzanne's eyes and her smile. It must be her mother.

"Are you ready, honey?" She asked quietly.

Suzanne stared at her hands for a long moment and finally nodded. "Yes."

Her voice was fragile and distant, and while anyone else may have chalked it up to a bride's wedding day jitters, Eames knew better. She was miserable and destroyed, and it was his doing. Like Cupid before him, he'd made a woman give him everything and left her with nothing.

God, it was pathetic.

He watched her stand, carefully picking up the large train of her gown as her mom chuckled out loud. "I can't believe my little girl is getting married and she isn't wearing a veil."

Suzanne cracked a smile and his heart skipped a beat as his Annie showed herself for the barest of moments. "Veils are for a pure virgin mother, you are lucky I am wearing white."

"Because red would have really gone over well," Her mother mused with a grin. "Let's go, sweetheart, it's time."

It an instant she was gone, and Eames was left standing in the doorway for a few minutes as he hung his head and tried to keep the tears of anguish that filled his eyes at bay. He deserved this. A dry, barking laugh came out as he realized that he was standing here ready to scream out with the best melodramatic Heathcliff impression that was ever acted.

And he deserved every. fucking. minute.

:o:o:o:o

The ceremony was lavish, probably what every little girl dreams of when she is a child. A white princess dress and a handsome groom waiting for her at the end of the aisle to make her his queen so they can ride off into the sunset to their castle and live happily ever after just like in a fairy tale.

He was as far away from the crowd as he could possibly stand and still be able to see what was going on. The only thing he could think of was the last night he held her in his arms and he openly panicked about the thought of her wanting him to settle down and live a normal life. At the time he lost it, unable to give up the lifestyle he had become accustomed to…but now the thoughts came back to haunt him.

They would have bought that little house by the sea together, and he would have married her in a small church in the center of town. He would have insisted that they walk there hand-in-hand as old English tradition stated, and she would have worn a simple white dress and he would have actually bought a suit. He would have confessed his undying love in front of her parents, and later that night, he would have taken her home and made love to her, over and over, until they conceived a child.

Would it have been that difficult to bear?

What then had made him nervous and anxious now made him ache with longing. He wanted that stupid thought more than anything in the world.

And he'd never have it.

He gave it to another man, who despite all his money and his power would never make her happy.

When the crowd started to sedately clap he turned and walked away. He couldn't watch her kiss him. Those beautiful pillow soft lips, painted blood red…it was too much.

"_Be with me always, take any form, drive me mad!"_

He remembered the words he'd quoted the night he told her everything, when she gave him the privilege of an "I love you," and instead of giving her back meaningless _words- _he gave her his name. It was something that only a handful of people knew…and he wanted to hear it from her, in her beautiful voice. So that she would know that she had _him _and his heart, until the day he died.

He'd twisted the '_Wuthering Heights' _quote to be one where a person could almost think it to be a declaration of love. But here, now, the real words echoed in his ears, and he felt them with the same rage and heartbreak that they were meant to be said in.

How ironic that they'd managed to become the very characters that she loathed.

"_Be with me always, take any form, drive me mad! Only do not leave me in this abyss where I cannot find you! Oh, God! It is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!_

:o:o:o:o

Much later in the evening Eames sat in his hotel room at the Sofitel in Marseilles, gracefully drinking straight from a bottle of Dom Perignon. He was stretched out on the bed still in the expensive suit he'd bought especially to attend his lover's wedding; he should have said, "hello" to the happy couple. That would have made the purchase worthwhile.

He shook his head as the fuzz of alcohol started to play with his thoughts, before he pulled his sleeve back and checked the time on his gold watch- it was a little after 11pm. The entertainment should be here any moment.

Eames had decided somewhere along the couple hour's drive from the site of the wedding, that he needed to exorcise Suzanne from his body once and for all. She was going to spend the night breaking in her marriage bed with some pathetic excuse for a man, and well…why should he suffer because she wanted to get married.

It didn't take that much time to locate a high end escort service in Marseilles. After making a specific request for a very slender blonde with brown eyes, he sat back and waited. He wanted someone that looked _nothing _like her.

But even as he stubbornly plotted his revenge on the memory of the woman who'd crossed him this afternoon, his hand absently came to rest on his stomach…and then trailed lower to a growing bulge in his pants as he couldn't get her off his mind. His eyes slid closed and just like he knew it would be, an image of her standing at the foot of his bed in a lacy piece of French lingerie came to life as clear as day.

He could see it all, the round, full globes of her breasts, perfectly tight and placed despite their generous size, the graceful curve of her spine and the slender span of her waist before it flared out at her hips to that insanely shaped ass of hers. He bit his lip hard as he palmed himself through the fabric of his pants, hearing her scream out his name and beg him for more- calling him a fucking_ king_.

A knock on the door snapped him out of it and he sat up from the bed. Irritation was the first thing that came to mind at being interrupted before he could even start using his hand- but at the fuzzy realization that this was the substitute for the wank that he was due, he stood up and answered the door.

Eames stared at the pin thin woman in her strappy black mini- dress and sky high heels and almost had to stop his lip from curling in distaste. She was beautiful alright, platinum blonde hair puffed up with volume and curled at the ends and her face was overdone with dramatic make up.

Well, at least she looked the part of a $900 an-hour call girl.

"Bonjour," She spoke in high breathy tone that was supposed to be sultry, but somehow her obviously anglicized butchering of the word just managed to irritate him.

"Come in, love." He sighed as he let the door swing open.

She rolled her hips in a practiced motion as she walked through the room and sat down on the end of the bed. "A little lonely tonight, baby?" She purred as she leaned back on the bed and crossed her legs.

"Not at all, darling," Eames droned the biting sarcasm obvious in his voice. "I was merely short on good conversation this evening." He was getting more and more irritated by the second, and suddenly his libido was starting to wane at the thought of actually fucking this woman. His normally impressive and rock hard erection was at best- half staff. It was enough to make him furious.

She was fucking gone and married and still she controlled him.

The blonde giggled loudly and stood up, batting her big brown eyes as she stood up and slinked over to him, pressing her body against the wall of his chest and bringing her red lips up to his, "You want me to talk; I can say whatever you want. And it looks like you need a little dirty talk to get going, baby." Her hand came up to cup him through his trousers, and Eames snatched her wrist just before she touched him.

"Ah, ah, ah, none of that," His full lips curled into an arrogant smirk, "Why don't you be a good girl and get on your knees. I'm sure that mouth of yours is better suited for that, hmm?"

There was a look of offense that actually came across her face before she did as she was told. Eames tried to block out the voice in his head, the one that told him that even though she was little more than a whore, he wasn't normally this much of an asshole. He concentrated on the anticipation as he pulled out his shirt and unbuttoned it, giving her access to his belt and zipper. He leaned back against the wall as the belt gave way and his zipper came down inch by inch. He stared at the blonde as she slowly reached inside and pulled him out, and he would have been lying if he said he didn't like the appreciative gasp she let out at the sight of him.

Apparently even half way there he was still worth a look.

She licked her red lips and stared up at him, "I'm gonna make your head spin, baby."

"It's what I'm paying you for, love," Eames replied as he reached out to grab a handful of her styled hair. "Now, have at it."

He watched her as she took him into her hand and then leaned forward to nurse his semi-hard cock in between her lips. She wasn't bright, but the girl did know what she was doing. Eames groaned lowly as she began a good rhythm of suction, a spark of lightening shivered down his spine and he finally felt his cock respond to her ministrations. "Good girl," He mumbled lowly as he gripped her hair tighter, closing his eyes to revel in the sensation.

It was a mistake.

A memory hit him like a douse of ice cold water and a brick wall. An image of_ her _on her knees and ravenous as she literally sucked the life out of him, her green eyes sparkling and hungry in the darkness as she begged him to let her taste him. He gasped out loud as his eyes shot open and he felt himself completely lose his hard on. He couldn't _fucking_ do this.

"Stop," He said as he pulled her away with a firm jerk and her grunt of displeasure was loudly audible.

"Look, baby, I don't know what you need, but if there's an issue…" She snipped as she stood up. "I don't know what you want me to do about it."

Eames frowned at the slight, "The equipment works just fine, darling. It's _you_." He stepped away and zipped up his pants as the realization completely sobered him up and he admitted the truth out loud to the blonde and to himself. "You aren't her…you aren't _her_." He reached into his pocket and counted out her fee, plus a generous tip and handed it out.

"Have a nice night on me, love. I'm done, here."

The blonde didn't say another word; she simply took the wad of bills and turned her nose up at him, "It's no wonder why she left you, selfish asshole." She scoffed before storming out of the room.

:o:o:o:o

Eames stared ahead as he came out of his pathetic cloud of week old memory and looked at the table in front of him; his hand had absently began to rub over the two chips in his hand, spinning them in his fingers as the dealer cleared the table and opened it up for bets. He was just eyeing the same square he had been for the last twenty minutes when a voice sounded from over his shoulder that he hadn't heard in quite a while.

"You can rub them together all you want, they're not going to breed."

Dominick Cobb.

It was a somewhat amusing reference to the fact that the totem chip that was currently secure in his inside coat pocket would replicate in the dream world. It's how he knew where he was.

"You never know," he answered in a deadpanned tone as he placed the chips down on the table once again to bet.

"Let me get you a drink." Cobb offered.

And once again the dice did not roll in his favor. Eames grumbled as he stood up to cash out the chips he'd lifted from one of the less attentive players. "You're buying."

:o:o:o:o

The two old friends sat at a corner table with a couple warm beers, and Eames had helped himself to a plate of pistachio nuts…more to calm his irritation at the thoughts in his head as opposed to any actual hunger. Cobb wasn't supposed to be in Mombasa. He'd been a busy bee since he'd last seen him in Paris two years ago. He'd become as good of an extractor as Eames had become a Forger, but unfortunately, Dom always had a habit of getting himself in trouble. The last he heard, he was in deep with Cobol Engineering after screwing up a huge job.

There was decent chatter in the shadier circles that he ran in that Cobol had a huge price on his head, and judging by the two sore thumb khaki suits that were sitting at the bar- he had a nice tail on him as well. He had to have a bloody good reason for coming here, Mombasa was Cobol's backyard.

"Word is Cobol has a price on your head." Eames remarked.

"You wouldn't sell me out, right?" Cobb answered, a half smile falling across his face.

"Absolutely."

Cobb laughed for a second before he looked up at him, "I tried to get in touch with you a week ago. I knew you were in Rio for a while, but I thought you were coming right here."

Eames frowned at the memory of his trip to Provence. "I was busy for a bit."

"France, I imagine." Cobb answered. "I didn't miss the papers."

Dom knew about her wedding, of course he did. Fan-bloody-fucking-tastic. He could feel his irritation rise by the minute.

"I'm assuming you didn't come down here to talk about that." Eames groused as he chewed on a pistachio shell.

Cobb shook his head and was still for a minute before he finally spoke.

"Inception."

* * *

**I just want everyone to notice that when Cobb first meets Eames in Mombasa he seems really pissed…I like to think it is because he watched Suzanne get married a week before. : ) Please think of that and watch the scene on YouTube…it'll get you in mind for the story ; ).**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: And here we have a very interesting bit of conversation and plot development that should be a bit intriguing. I personally enjoyed imagining Eames and Yusuf having a little conversation about life. One thing that always sticks with me is how pissed Eames seems when Cobb first talks to him in Mombasa, but when he talks about Yusuf he manages a genuine smile. I'd like to think they have a mutual respect for one another…and it will be important later on ; ). (And Mals this chemist spotlight is for you, darling.)**

**So…as always your words are love…please read and review! Thanks!**

**I'll most likely revise this, because I am a lazy editor tonight XD. Sorry in advance for typos and the such…**

* * *

_New Orleans, Louisiana_

_2010_

* * *

"Anythin' else you need, honey?"

The loud, rich voice pulled him out of his daydream and Eames smiled up at the heavy-set black woman with a warm smile. She'd just laid out a huge bowl of seafood gumbo and a tall glass of sweet iced tea in front of him. He breathed in the delicious, spicy aroma and smiled back at her.

"This looks wonderful, thank you so much." He answered in a contented sigh as he fluffed out the cloth napkin and placed it across his lap. "Actually, could I maybe grab a Pimm's cup? I think I'm in the mood for a cocktail with my lunch."

She paused for a second and smiled, "You know we make that a little different down here in N'awlins, ain't quite like what you have at home."

Eames smiled at her emphasis on her accent. He was well aware that the London-born gin-type cocktail had found popularity at one of the local bars, and though there was a slight twist on the recipe, it was still sweet and delicious in the warm weather. "I have read that," he answered her with a nod, a wry grin on his full lips, "And I have to say I am very eager to try it."

The woman nodded and stared at him with a knowing smile, "How 'bout I make you a nice bread puddin' for dessert too? We make a damn good chocolate caramel one that I know you'll like, honey. Want to make sure a nice English gentleman like you feels at home here in my city."

"Sounds amazing, Ma'am." He answered with a nod. "You are too kind."

She smiled warmly and moved off towards the kitchen of the small restaurant on Decatur Street. Eames sighed pleasantly and stared out the large windows onto the bustling sunny street outside, it was an absolutely gorgeous December afternoon in the French Quarter. He lifted his spoon and took a healthy mouthful of the rich spicy stew, life was good. The waitress returned with his cocktail and he lifted it in a toast of acknowledgement and thanks before taking a long sip of the refreshing lemony liquid, sighing audibly as he relaxed in his chair.

The inception job had been a success. As fucked up and dangerous as the entire thing had been from the day that Cobb met him to Mombasa, the outcome couldn't have been better. They'd done it. The team had successfully planted an idea into the mind of another human being and it had taken root. Saito would have his company's future secure, and Robert Fischer would break apart his father's empire to effectively dismantle the Fisher Morrow energy conglomerate. And Eames, for his time, had been handsomely rewarded- almost three million dollars for the effort.

Though admittedly, it was the hardest money he'd ever earned, and it had nothing to do with the ass kicking his body had taken in the dream world; thanks to Cobb and his all consuming guilt about his wife's death. No, it was more the fact that he had to spend time in Paris to plan the damn thing. The moment he'd set foot back into that warehouse all he could think of was _her_. His brilliant, beautiful, sexy, Annie; it was their city after all- and there wasn't a moment of peace to be had the entire time he was there. He was almost glad that a majority of the two months of prep-time required him to be in Sydney watching Fischer and Browning. He'd even done most of the design work for his dream level over the phone and via the internet with pretty, little Ariadne.

And for the time he couldn't avoid being in the city he rented an overpriced suite at the Ritz Carlton, as far away from the charming bohemian culture of Pigalle and Montmartre as he could get.

But it would seem that she had pull on his mind no matter where in the world he was. Because it was in the middle of a meeting with Peter Browning, in Sydney a few weeks before the job, as he was sitting in the corner taking notes like some sort of flunkie intern, when Richard Jensen walked into the room. It took Eames everything he had not get up from his seat and deck that arrogant fuck, shatter his jaw and break his nose. Richard smiled with a Cheshire cat grin as he shook Browning's hand and apologized for missing the last few weeks' worth of meetings.

It would have been because of his honeymoon.

"She insisted on a month in Maine at a sea-side resort," Richard shook his head as he laughed. "All our homes, yachts, and the world at her feet and that was all she wanted. I couldn't bear the silence anymore. I don't know what she wanted to spend the time doing. Imagine, Maine, in late April."

Eames ground his teeth in irritation as his hand squeezed the pen in his grip until the plastic began to protest. He didn't know what to do with a month of time and that beautiful woman?

A myriad of images and memories flashed across his eyes. Days on end of Suzanne stretched out on every surface he could find, screaming out her pleasure as he took her in every conceivable position, long afternoon soaks in a tub big enough for two, and sumptuous simple, homemade meals enjoyed nude. He'd had her for a month in rainy Paris, and it had been the best days of his life.

And her fucking _husband _didn't know how to treat her.

He shook his head at the recollection and downed the rest of his cocktail on a long swallow. Suddenly his attention was drawn through the window of the restaurant to a familiar face. He laughed as he stood up and knocked on the pane of glass, catching the attention of his good friend, and former teammate, Yusuf, who appeared to be in complete tourist mode, judging by the tall plastic daiquiri glass in his hand.

Yusuf walked into the restaurant and smiled his gregarious voice infectious and his warm brown eyes sparkling, "What are you doing here, my friend?"

"Ah, having a fantastic meal in a lovely city, you?" Eames replied as he shook his hand warmly and gestured for him to have a seat.

"I have _never_ been here," He answered honestly. "When I left LA I decided to take a tour of the US, all the places I've never seen. I've been to Seattle, Las Vegas, San Diego, Chicago, and after this I was planning to see New York City."

He couldn't help but laugh at the chemist's enthusiasm. "So I see you are spending Cobb's share of the profit on quite a nice little two month holiday."

The waitress wandered over a minute later and politely interrupted, "Got a guest, honey?"

Eames nodded, "And it is his first time in your lovely city. I think we need to feed the man and for the love of God get him a proper hurricane."

:o:o:o:o

Ten minutes later they were both enjoying a great meal and even better conversation. Eames had always liked the Indian man. He'd met him purely by chance a year or so ago in Mombasa. Poor Yusuf had made the mistake of being overly courteous to a pretty woman at a local watering hole and her date had decided to go at him. Generally he wouldn't have bothered to intercede, but it _had_ been a good, long while since he'd enjoyed a fist fight, and the wanker _was_ interrupting the football match he was watching.

And then there was the unimaginable stroke of luck that not only was Yusuf wonderful conversation and a genuine joy to be around, but he was probably the most genius chemist he'd ever met. It was only a matter of time before he was formulating Somnacin for every single one of the forger's jobs.

"I can see how Paris is the mother of New Orleans," He spoke in a sigh as he sipped his brutally strong rum drink. "Such culture, have you been here the whole time?"

"Nah, mate," Eames answered absently as he sipped his second cocktail. "I was in Miami for a good while, which I recommend by the way, if only for the sun, scenery, and the food. But I had a craving for Cajun and Creole, so here I am."

The mention of Paris again put him into a contemplative mood that was only furthered by the gin that was coursing through his veins. He stared absently at his meal and was reminded of the seafood stew she'd made for him one miserable, rainy afternoon and the sweet _dessert_…and the pie she'd made wasn't bad either.

"Have I lost you, Mr. Eames?"

"Daydreaming," He replied honestly ordering another drink with a nod. "About things I'd rather forget."

"I have never known you to be melancholy," Yusuf spoke thoughtfully. "Care to share?"

"Mmm, not much to share, I'm afraid. The typical maudlin thoughts of a man who's made poor choices," Eames confessed as he sat back in his chair.

"Is this about a woman?" He asked, suddenly seeming very interested in the story.

"_The _woman, my friend," Eames answered. "And I'll spare you the sad, pathetic tale, suffices to say that you've read _Wuthering Heights_?"

"I have."

"Well, my darling Cathy Earnshaw was wed in Provence a week before Cobb met us in Mombasa for the Fischer job."

Yusuf stared at him for a thoughtful moment before he spoke, "But if I'm not mistaken, by your subtle guilt mingled with your sadness; she wasn't the one who left first, was she?"

"Very astute," Eames answered with a half-smile.

He didn't know what possessed him, whether it was a combination of the alcohol or whether he was truly powerless against her memory, but Eames found himself reaching into his pocket to pull out his wallet and taking out a creased Polaroid picture that had been tucked away for some time.

It was him and her, in a moment of pure happiness.

It had been taken on a sunny Saturday afternoon on the Seine; they were sitting by the Pont des Arts and enjoying a simple late day meal and a bottle of wine. He couldn't even remember what had them laughing, but he honestly didn't care to remember. All he could see reflected was the beautiful woman with her ebony hair flowing long as her pale, graceful neck had her head thrown back in absolute joy.

She was so real, and it was all that he had left of her.

"This is her." Eames spoke up as he handed the picture across the table to his friend.

Yusuf stared at the old picture for a minute or two and up at him again, "She is very beautiful, and more importantly, I don't ever think I have seen _you_ smile in such a way."

Eames merely shrugged, "C'est la vie. My misfortune is another man's windfall."

The chemist handed the photograph back to him, "I do not think it is so simple, because I cannot believe that a woman smiles that way for more than one man. Did you court her long?"

"No," He sighed, raising his eyebrow at the strange direction of the conversation. "Are you going to launch into another Buddhist lecture on the state of my soul and my path through suffering to enlightenment?"

"I think you are well aware of the passion that keeps you trapped in your current state of re-birth," Yusuf remarked as he sipped heavily from his drink. "What I merely wanted to mention was the fact that it is not all that uncommon for people to journey together through the wheel of suffering, perhaps she is on this trip with you."

"Soul mates!? Honestly, Yusuf, I think you are grabbing at straws my friend." Eames laughed out loud, "We met, had a lovely little game of cat and mouse, pleasant conversation, and we fucked like animals every chance we got. I'm afraid there was nothing existential about it. It was just a perfect example of Darwinism and natural selection at its finest, alpha male meets alpha female."

His tirade didn't seem to convince his friend in the least.

"And yet you keep a photograph of her, a reminder of her very presence in your life, and I have never once seen you with another. If this is your definition of merely a biological imperative to breed, I hope I find such a happy accident someday."

Eames tucked the picture away and drained his drink, sighing as the fuzziness in his head began to make the swimming image of her face blur for the moment.

"I'm sure you will, my friend. You are too good a man not to." He sat back in his chair just as the waitress brought out the dessert she had specially prepared and another round of cocktails. "But in the meantime, I think we should plan to spend the night accruing some poor karmic points on Bourbon Street."

:o:o:o:o

The next morning Eames woke to his phone ringing loudly in his ear as his head pounded with a skull-splitting headache. He didn't drink rum for a reason, and the vile feeling that was taking hold of him was why. He sat up and stared around the ornate hotel room, and it took him a while to remember that he'd checked into the historic and rather lovely Le Pavillon hotel yesterday afternoon upon arriving in the city. Then it had been a walk down the sunny streets to a nice restaurant where he'd managed to find a good meal and a friendly face.

An ungodly loud snoring noise drew his attention to the chaise lounge at the end of the king sized bed to see Yusuf curled up in a rather uncomfortable looking position in the same suit he'd been wearing yesterday. Eames has to laugh at the fuzzy recollection of the man as he moved along the various bars and jazz clubs of the French Quarter- he didn't think he'd ever been that excited about anything in his life, but Yusuf had the time of his life.

The phone rang _again _and he sleepily answered, "Yes?"

"I've been calling you for an hour."

It was Dominick Cobb, apparently having his life and his children restored to him had done nothing to curb his irritation.

"Sorry, mate," He answered as he shielded his eyes from the unforgiving sun, "You can blame the Big Easy and their desire to murder a tourist's brain cells for the lack of reply."

"So you are hung-over?" Cobb questioned with an irritated huff.

Eames thought for a moment and sat up, weaving as the room spun a little. "No, I think I'm still drunk, actually."

"Well, perhaps this offer is best posed to a drunken man anyhow." He sighed. "I…well,_ we_ have an issue. I'm afraid that our little success may have been all for naught."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Cobb sighed, "I just got off the phone with Saito, and it looks like Robert Fischer won't have a chance to break apart his father's company, because he won't be in charge of it any longer. According to Maurice Fischer's will control of the company moves to the Board of Directors and not to his son. They have to vote to hand it over to him, and I think we all know with Peter Browning at the head of that group, Robert isn't going to see control anytime soon."

Eames sat up straight and the wash of irritation managed to sober him up, "So what does that have to do with us exactly?"

"Saito claims that the job wasn't finished, that we should have looked into the situation with the will as we were researching the job. He wants to know who is getting installed as Fischer Morrow's new CEO."

He scoffed, "Well, darling, I'd love a hand job from Helena Christiansen, but that isn't going to happen. Saito wanted inception and we gave it to him. I'm even going to go out on a limb here and defend Arthur, he was at the point for the job, but he's not a bloody legal analyst; if Saito didn't know the facts, sorry for him."

Cobb grumbled to himself, "Yeah, well he doesn't see it that way. The way he sees it is that he wants answers and we are going to give them to him. I don't need to tell you that he has dossiers on every one of us, and even though you've managed to slink under the radar for a while, you have plenty on the grid- old records that Her Majesty has kept quite well."

A burst of irritation suddenly suffused his face and Eames actually growled out loud, "So he's going to hold it over our heads 'till we do something about it, aye? What's to keep me from selling him out to Cobol or Browning?"

"He wants the access codes to the Chairman of the Board's personal computer." Cobb interrupted, "Richard Jensen's computer."

Eames froze at the mention of his name, "Again, what the _fuck_ does that have to do with me, Cobb, and it best not be what I think you are going to say."

"We need Suzanne to get them for us."

"I hate to burst your bubble, but you and I have a better chance of getting shot by that woman as opposed to getting a hello. Or have you forgotten?" He scoffed angrily. "Actually she'd shoot you, I'd probably get drawn, quartered, castrated and then shot."

"Well, then we need to get them from her whether she knows it or not." Cobb replied. "I have a month, Eames, and he's making a phone call and I'll be in a worse state than I was before. I can't lose my children; they are all I have left of Mallorie."

The silence on the other end of the line effectively signaled his doom. How could he ruin this man's life, even if it meant betraying her- _again_?

"What do you need me to do?"

"Arthur is going to try to bring her in on another premise; I need you to go out to LA and gather intel on her and meet us in two weeks in Vancouver. I need to know I can count on you for this."

"Yeah alright, darling," Eames mumbled. "I'll see you in two weeks."

"Thanks, man. And, uh, you wouldn't by any chance know how to get a hold of Yusuf would you?"

The forger snorted in amusement as he looked over at the still comatose chemist at the foot of the bed, "I'll make a call."

:o:o:o:o

_Los Angeles, California_

_Two days later…_

Suzanne tapped her heeled foot nervously as she sat outside Demitasse coffee bar on Third Street in Santa Monica at seven o'clock on the dot. She was waiting to meet Arthur, but as the minutes ticked by she was regretting even calling the meeting.

She'd had a complete melt-down the previous night because of a stupid TV show…and the fact that she still had absolutely no control over herself where a certain individual in the past was concerned.

Asshole.

She ignored her mind's impulse to wander, and checked her iPhone for the 500th time that morning; reading the various email correspondence that had built up in her box since she left the office the previous night. It was a 24/7 job dealing with the company's security needs on an international stage, and unfortunately with London being roughly ten hours ahead of her, the majority of Nigel's reports came when she was home asleep.

But that didn't stop the amusing Brit from making her laugh on a regular basis. The man was in his early-sixties and should have been a member of Monty Python, or some other sketch comedy team. He was even likable enough to overlook the fact that he shared the same nationality as _he_ did.

She was reading a rather colorful description he wrote about a virus that she would probably need to head over there and handle personally when she caught sight of the slender man in his ever present, perfectly tailored suit and the metal PASIV that was never far from his reach.

Suzanne stood up and smoothed out the black pencil skirt and buttoned the jacket of her DKNY suit before extending her hand as he walked up to the table. "Good morning, Arthur." She smiled amicably.

"Would you care for a coffee?" He asked as he set down his coat.

"Sure." She answered, "Skim-milk, no sugar."

He nodded and disappeared inside the still quiet shop and returned a few minutes later with two medium sized take-out cups, wrapped in cardboard and neatly covered again with napkins before sitting down and folding his hands on the table.

"I'm-"

"I'm-"

Both of them instantly spoke at the same time and Suzanne laughed at his boyish smile. "I'm sorry for my behavior yesterday; it was extremely rude and unprofessional." She confessed with a raised hand to stop him from apologizing. "And I am sorry _also _for the late night rambling phone call."

Arthur shook his head. "Honestly, I expected you to take my head off. So you can imagine my surprise when you let me in the office."

Suzanne smiled warmly at his easy conversation, she always did like him. "And please apologize to Ariadne for me as well."

"Oh," The tips of his ears and his cheeks flushed at the mention of the pretty little brunette. "Yeah, she's fine. I gave her a small bit of history with Mal, and she knows Cobb, so the situation explained itself."

She stared down at her hands and took a deep breath at the mention of her friend's name. "I'm doing this for Mallorie," She said quietly, "And that is it. I want nothing to do with him other than that."

Arthur took a sip of his coffee. "I understand, believe me I do, and I will not talk about it anymore beyond this. But he's lost without her, and I just want you to know that."

Suzanne looked away as she felt the hurt tighten her chest; she needed to change the subject immediately. "What is it _exactly_ that you need from me?"

"I need you to create a dream level with Ariadne, a flawless representation of the mark's office and home. He has an eidetic memory and has probably had the best extractors train him for sub-security, so I need it to be believable long enough that he doesn't catch on until we find the answers we need. Quite frankly, I've never met anyone who can remember details like you can, and Ariadne builds as effortlessly as Mal did." Arthur explained.

'Ariadne, the architect,' Suzanne mused at the girl's name. Talk about a self-fulfilling legacy, her parents must have known what they were doing when they named her. But it had been a long time since she'd done anything like that, she hoped creativity in the dream world was like riding a bicycle.

Suddenly another clue stood out from Arthur's description of the job, the mark having an eidetic memory. There was only one man that she knew of that was powerful enough to have the pull to threaten anyone as slippery as Dominick Cobb and to have that particular quality.

"You are talking about David Woodruff aren't you?"

Arthur lowered his voice, "Yes. Cobb has a history with Cobol Engineering and it isn't a pleasant one."

This was a problem. She _knew_ Woodruff socially and he was very close with her husband, "This is an issue for me. Although, why is it I doubt that is news to you, Arthur."

"Alright," He grumbled leaning in and gesturing for her to do the same. "Let me shoot straight here, Suzanne. I lied to you in your office about them coming after Miles to be dramatic. I'm sorry, but I had to get some sort of emotional pull with you. But the threat to Cobb's children is the truth. He needs to know what Woodruff has on him. I don't need to tell you that Cobol Engineering isn't known for being diplomatic."

She closed her eyes and shook her head, "I can't believe you are asking me to do this. It is against every moral and professional ethic that I have. You are asking me to engage in espionage and I am the head of Security for a major company."

"Trust me." Arthur answered in a cool tone, "I know just what I am asking you to do, and your _friend _is plenty guilty of far worse than I am asking you for. I personally have done no less than four extraction jobs for him in the last year and a half, and your husband knew about every one of them."

Her green eyes narrowed sharply in anger and he instantly changed tactic, his voice becoming very calm. "Suzanne, please, I…please, I don't want to argue, _just_ help him. For Mal and the kids, it's all I'm asking."

What was she to do? She couldn't back out on Mallorie, she owed her children this. She hadn't been observant enough to see when her friend was in trouble, and now Phillipa and little James had no mother. She couldn't stand by and watch them lose their father as well. Not if she could do anything to stop it from happening.

"Alright," She acquiesced quietly. "I'll do it."

He nodded with a relived sigh. "Thank you. We are going to meet in Vancouver in two weeks to lay out the mission; you know how Cobb likes to talk in person about stuff like this. I only need you to be there for a day, say the 16th?"

"I'll have to clear it with my schedule," She answered as she flipped open the calendar on her phone, "I was heading to London that weekend, but I should be able to push off the trip."

"Excellent," Arthur answered as he lifted his wrist and pulled back his sleeve to stare at his elegant Rolex, "I have to get going. Can I call you at the number you were at last night with the details tonight?"

Suzanne nodded as she stood, "Yes."

"I was good to see you, Suzanne. Have a good day." He said with a smile as he turned to walk away.

Suddenly she spoke up as a thought dawned on her, "He's not going to be in Vancouver, right?"

"Who?" Arthur's brown eyes went wide for a moment as it must have hit him at once, "You mean Eames? No, just you, me, Ariadne and Cobb."

She nodded, "Alright then, I'll talk to you soon."

As he walked off Suzanne couldn't stop the shiver that raced up her spine after hearing his name for the first time in so long. Suddenly after hearing it once her mind let her hear it over and over like a broken record.

Mr. Eames… her _Edward_, she couldn't see him again- but try as she might to let hatred be the first thing that came to mind when she heard that name, the race of her heart and the warmth of her skin betrayed her yet again.

.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: And here we have a lovely update! It's definitely an eyebrow raiser for a number of reasons. **

**Please enjoy! Read and review! Please!?**

**Mwah! **

* * *

_Los Angeles, California_

_2010_

* * *

By five-thirty Suzanne was completely done with the day. It turned out that the virus that Nigel Roth had advised her about had had tried to worm its way into the e-mail server for the entire company and she personally spent the entire afternoon on the phone with James Marren, her head software engineer, tracing through miles of source code until they managed to find it and get rid of it. As a result she had fallen behind on her other work, and if it wasn't for the godsend that was Nita, there was no doubt that three important memos would have been late getting out and a massive deadline would have been missed.

She sat back in her leather chair behind her desk and closed her eyes just as her phone rang. She didn't even bother to check the caller ID when she answered. "Good evening, this is Suzanne Jensen."

"You sound exhausted."

It was Richard, and the first thought that entered her mind wasn't happiness at hearing his deep voice, rather irritation that it had been almost twenty four hours since she'd left him a message and he was _finally_ returning her damn phone call. It was nice to know that she was a priority in his day.

"I am," she answered with a sigh. "You no doubt noticed the e-mail server issue today, that took me all damn day to straighten out. If it wasn't for Nita my entire week would have been completely ruined."

"That is what you pay her for, sweetheart." He explained in an uninterested tone. "In more pressing news, I have a meeting tomorrow with Peter Browning and the Board of Directors for Fischer Morrow. I think they are formally going to announce my plans for a merger with Jensen Holdings."

"That's great, congratulations, honey." Suzanne smiled and tried to make it sound through her voice. If Richard's plans for a merger came through, he would set himself up as CEO of Fischer Morrow- and where would that leave her? Would he expect her to leave her job and relocate to Australia full-time? She was already 3,000 miles away from her parents; she wouldn't move half a world away. "I wish you luck."

"Thank you, but it has nothing to do with luck, I make my own. This is going to be my legacy for my children and I will do whatever it takes." Richard answered calmly. "But I must say I do miss your beautiful face, pet. I am anxiously waiting to come home to you and try again; it will be close if I remember correctly?"

He was talking about a baby- _again_.

It wasn't a week after their wedding that he had informed her that she would discontinue taking her birth control pills because he was ready to start their family. Suzanne had held her tongue, and only because of the memory of her recently deceased Memere. One of the things that she had told her as a little girl was that there was no better gift that a woman could give a man than to give him a life beyond his own. She just wasn't sure that she wanted to have her husband's baby just yet.

So she was ashamed to admit that she had been tracking her ovulation cycles and purposely telling him that it was the day, when it was as far as humanly possible from it. Because, honestly, who schedules sex? That was supposed to be something that was raw and organic; she wanted to conceive a child because a man couldn't keep his hands off of her and took her so often there was no chance an egg would miss getting fertilized.

A shiver raced up her spine at the fleeting memory of _his_ large, tanned hands all over her body. She banished it just as quickly.

"I think you're right." She answered. "I miss you too, honey. It gets very lonely at night without you."

"Well I'll be home soon," He purred lowly. "And I'll make sure that you have plenty of company."

Suzanne smiled wanly and sighed, "I can't wait. I love you."

"Good night, pet, I'll talk to you soon."

"Good night." She answered as she hung up the phone and stared at her desk. It was getting worse. Ever since Arthur had spoken his name this morning, the memories had started to come back to her with more and more frequency and intensity. As if it had invoked a dormant hypnosis command that was planted deep in her mind.

She actually laughed out loud at the inherent irony in that concept and the fact that it wasn't all that far-fetched. Suzanne shut off her computer and gathered her things together; it was time for a well-deserved drink and dinner.

:o:o:o:o

The dinner break didn't come a moment too soon. When she walked out of her office poor Nita was literally holding her head in her hands and staring down at the month's financial statements. Her neatly coiffed mane of shiny black hair had started to fall down, and she really, really looked like a woman who needed a martini.

"Time to go," Suzanne said as she knocked on her desk.

Nita looked up with tired brown eyes and smiled, "You go; I have another hour of work to do at least. I'll take a rain-check on dinner and drinks though."

Suzanne frowned, "Umm, no. You are done for the day, and I am taking you out to dinner, so shut off your computer and let's go. Whatever has to get done we can both do it in the morning; you deserve the break, I couldn't have made the day without you. So please, as your _boss_, let me appreciate your hard work."

The girl's face lit up with a genuine smile, "Thank you so much, Suzanne."

:o:o:o:o

They drove over to Craft, a rather expensive, but completely worth it, farm to table restaurant not far from the financial district on Constellation Boulevard and grabbed a table for two in the corner.

The wooden, modern interior was a play on rustic sophistication, and Suzanne relaxed instantly as the waitress came over and she effortlessly ordered two dirty vodka martinis and a dozen delicious raw Wellfleet oysters. It was a small concession that if she couldn't be in Massachusetts at least she could eat like she was.

When the appetizer came, she dug in with the small seafood fork and gestured to Nita to do the same. "Please help yourself, I don't know if you like them, but I had a wicked craving and I'll eat the whole plate."

She bit her lip at the slip of her accent and smiled as the girl shook her head in disgust at the sight of the raw seafood. She also studiously noticed that Nita was focusing rather intently on the menu and probably the less than economical prices.

"Order whatever you like, it's on me tonight."

"Oh, you don't have to."

"I know I don't," Suzanne answered with a smile, "But I _want_ to. So please get whatever you want so I can drool over it while I eat a salad."

Nita smiled sheepishly, "I _did _have my eye on the rabbit. But if I splurge you have to eat something too! You are so skinny, Suzanne, one little meal isn't going to make you a round person."

She laughed out loud as their drinks arrived, "Trust me I have to work like a mad-woman to look like this, everything goes right to my ass."

"Some men like that though," Nita said as she took a small sip of her drink. "Richard isn't one of them?"

"No," Suzanne answered with a face, "He's a believer in the waif-like Victorian doll look, which admittedly I have the pale skin for but I'm more Botticelli than Calvin Klein in the figure department."

As soon as the words left her mouth she could feel a blush rise up and color her cheeks at the memory of a breakfast in the sun two years ago that turned into an exhibitionist romp of hot girl-on-top sex, and a man who wanted her curvy body carved in marble for his own enjoyment. _He'd_ always loved her less than flat ass- in fact he told her very ardently and quite frequently about it during the act.

"Hmm," Nita said as her eyes narrowed. "Oh my, so your husband doesn't like it, but with that look someone sure did."

Suzanne waved her off as she took a huge sip of her drink, "Ugh, _no_ comment on things that are ancient history."

Only partially deterred Nita shrugged, "Well, I for one am not a fan of super-thin men. I like my man to have a little bulk, so I know that he can protect me…and lift me up."

Suzanne smiled at her wink, "Mmm, actually I agree. There is nothing better than a man with big strong shoulders, and a tight back end."

She closed her eyes with a sigh and she knew that she wouldn't see Richard, she'd see _him_ in that tacky plaid robe he wore to make breakfast, the thin fabric hanging off his rock hard, perfectly formed ass.

"Wow." Nita giggled, "Ancient history _my_ butt. I am going to be _so _inappropriate but please just indulge me, what did he look like? I mean Richard is handsome, but something tells me this man was something else."

"Well we're not in work so I'll excuse the language if you do." Suzanne said as she bit her red lip and took a much-too-big gulp of her drink, "Let's see, he wasn't really tall, but damn he was built like a brick house- muscles for days. But not like that useless "gym" build, the kind where you know he got strong from doing some actual work. God, take your pick, tan, tattooed, orgasm inducing voice, British accent, beautiful stormy grey eyes, and his lips were _unreal_. Like Angelina Jolie aspires some day to have lips like he does. And I don't even need to tell you that he's hung like a freaking horse and knows how to use it."

"Geez," Nita whispered. "What happened?"

Her whole face twisted into an angry scowl, "He was an absolute selfish asshole who couldn't take anything seriously. My best friend passed away tragically and he basically ditched me because I wanted to settle down and have a normal life. Like literally, _boom_, he just took off without a word. Apparently I wasn't worth the trouble of good-bye after an 'I love you' and a month of non-stop sex. But whatever, I'm over it. I married a wonderful, stable man who is always there for me."

The Indian woman nodded thoughtfully, "But you still love him. I can hear it in your voice."

Suzanne sighed, "I don't even know if it was love. I was with him for less than thirty days two years ago for Chrissake; you don't love someone after knowing them for less time than it takes milk to spoil. I think it was just this raw animal lust thing, he was the alpha male and I was in the mood to get fucked real good by the King of the Jungle. So there you go."

She squinted, "If that's how you see it, but I think you met your match and he got you good. But _I'm_ going to shut up now because I like my job, and I have never even been in love so I am talking out my ass to a happily married woman."

Suzanne smiled at her honesty, "Well I am sure you will find an awesome man, you are too good a woman not to." She took another sip of her drink before tapping the crisp table cloth with her finger, "But speaking of work, what do you think about getting an intern? I mean I have a ton of stuff I keep dumping on you and some of the clerical work could definitely be handled by a paper pusher; I want you free to take on some higher level projects. Because, I have to take on this new consulting job and I think I am going to be tied up for the next few weeks."

"I won't say no to the help," Nita answered. "But he has to be cute."

"Well that goes without saying."

:o:o:o:o

Eames stood outside One Cliffside Drive in Malibu with an unhappy look on his face. Well, it would seem that Dickie-boy had spared no expense getting her the house by the sea that she had always wanted. He shook his head as he looked at the Italian glass tiled swimming pool and the hot tub spa beside it, chasing away the thought of lying back in the bubbling warm water under a full moon with a glass of scotch in his hand and a smile on his face while Suzanne rode him into oblivion. Chalk it up to the million fantasies that had played in his mind non-stop for the two years since he'd last been inside her.

It was getting to be fucking pathetic.

He hadn't had sex _since_ her, not that he hadn't tried- but for some odd reason he just couldn't do it physically. Not even a Russian blonde bombshell Victoria's Secret supermodel, (yes he'd managed that last summer in Cannes) could get him hard enough to do it. But give him a moment's thought about Suzanne and her luscious ass and he was hard as a rock, jacking off in the shower for forty-five minutes. It was seriously getting to be a concern; he'd gone from having notches on his bedpost in countries all over the world, to a man that had to rub one out at least once a day.

And apparently while he was building calluses on his palms Annie was here in her little Malibu mansion with Richie Rich probably getting it on 24/7 while he ate caviar off of her naked body or some such nonsense.

It's not supposed to be like this. She was meant to be _his_.

He could actually hear Yusuf reminding him that he was experiencing this suffering because he was meant to learn a lesson in this lifetime about his hedonistic and decadent tendencies. Eames frowned as he concentrated on the disabling the all too easy security system, before walking into the front door and re-locking it behind him. Well if she was supposed to be his soul mate, wouldn't he be doing a disservice to his soul and hers if he let them stay apart?

:o:o:o:o

Oh, it took all of thirty seconds for Eames to realize that although this may have been a house by the sea, there was no way she was happy here. Not his beautiful woman who loved to be held nice and close in a warm bed on Sunday morning, and loved her family more than anything.

Everything about the décor was cold and modern; frosty colors and ornate furniture that wasn't meant to be comfortable or welcoming. Even the stainless steel custom appliances in the chef's kitchen were pristine and he could tell that they hadn't been used at all. The same woman who had made him the most delicious food he'd ever eaten didn't cook anymore? A sinking feeling that manifested in a wave of complete guilt washed over him, who was this woman, and my God, what _had_ he done to Suzanne Williams?

He wandered up to the second floor and it didn't take long to find the sprawling master bedroom. He didn't bother to turn on the light, he didn't need to. The flood to ceiling windows let in more than enough moonlight, and he wouldn't be much of a master thief if he needed more than the simple pen light in his back pocket to see by. The room was draped in more of that cold, clinical color, and he finally realized that the place reminded him of a turn of the century sanitarium, the stark plane walls calling out an almost antiseptic quality. Eames shook his head at the ornate crystal chandelier on the ceiling, before his eyes fell on the massive bed. A spark of possessive lust and indignation washed over him as he looked at the pristine white sheets. His hands curled into fists and he bit down on the skin of his cheek hard enough to draw blood.

The alpha male in him wanted to stand here, wait until she came home tonight from the post work social dinner he knew she was at, grab her and throw her down on that bed. He wanted to pound her into the mattress as he fucked her six-ways from Sunday in the most debauched ways he could imagine. He'd make her scream out her pleasure and come over and over, and when he was finally finished he'd be sure to wipe up the evidence of their joining with that virginal white bedding as a reminder to her goddamn husband, that he might have trussed her up in an expensive dress, but he married an empty shell. Because her heart was already claimed- it belonged to _him_.

A triumphant smile spread across his face as he walked around the room observing everything. He was supposed to be looking for information to help Cobb gauge how easy it would be to get Suzanne to cooperate with them…but he had to admit as he began to rifle through the drawers of a dresser in her enormous walk in closet, he probably didn't need to inspect her negligee. But it was far too tempting to stop. He was impressed at the countless designer suits that lined the walls all around him, and he was very impressed with the collection of silk thigh-high stockings. Then he opened up a drawer and clicked on the small light to discover a treasure trove of lacy bras and countless pairs of panties.

He was like a boy on Christmas morning as he sorted through the various g-strings, thongs, boy-cut shorts and bikini briefs. They were in every conceivable color and all made of such amazing fabrics, lace, satin and silk…he laughed to himself as he fished out a black lace g-string and stuffed it in his pocket; he was reduced to a creepy, perverted, Peeping Tom- apparently with a panty thieving fetish. Ah, well, the label certainly fit, because there was no way that he wasn't going straight home later tonight and putting these in between his teeth and going nuts. Eames sighed, it was a very poor substitute for the woman herself- but for the moment beggars couldn't be choosers.

After digging through her closet for another moment or two, he wandered back out and moved to the bed. There he noticed a very pale pink nightie neatly folded on the white comforter. He couldn't stop himself from picking up the impossibly soft fabric and bringing it to his nose to smell the wonderful scent of lavender and almost sweet honey that was only Suzanne. His eyes closed and he sighed as his mouth practically watered at the fragrance and his cock responded instantly as if being called by every memory it evoked. Without thinking he sat down on the soft bed and laid back on her pillow, absently remembering her smile, her laugh…everything about her that he absolutely cherished.

Eames sighed with a deep breath and turned his head to stare at the small delicate legged bedside table. It had a small lamp and an old fashioned alarm clock, the spindly hands reading that it was a little after ten. Her alarm was set for five in the morning. His eyes were drawn to a dog-eared copy of the complete works of William Blake, and as he reached out for it, his practiced fingers instead opened the small drawer inside the table. He rolled over to look inside and was not surprised to find some sort of sleeping mask, a nail file and tissues. His eyes were instantly drawn to a black satin drawstring bag, and as the long, slender shape began to dawn on him, he couldn't stop his eyebrow from rising up in interest.

Well, well what did he have here? Out of pure curiosity he pulled out the bag and as he grabbed hold of the cylindrical object it he didn't need to open it up to know what it was. It would seem that the beautiful newlywed must spend her lonely nights enjoying the same exercise in self-stimulation that he did. Suzanne spent the night masturbating while her goddamn husband was half way around the world in some fucking business meeting. What a waste. He didn't deserve her.

Suddenly the truth of the situation hit him and kicked his heartbeat up a notch. She wasn't happy. This power focused woman who wore designer suits and came home to her boring sterile palace was suffocating. His Annie was buried somewhere down deep inside her and she was screaming to get out. He put back her little toy and gently closed the drawer as he lay back and put his arm behind his head. Perhaps this situation with Cobb was going to be something valuable after all. He would get the information that he needed to keep Dom safe and at the same time he would seduce her again, just as he did in Paris.

But this time, he refused to let up. She would come back to him and he would never let go of her again, she would be his.

The loud sound of heels on the wooden hallway that lead to the bedroom snapped him out of his daydream. How had he not heard her come in the house? Bloody fucking hell, he'd been daydreaming like a pathetic fool. Eames sprang out of bed and replaced the nightdress exactly as her found it and remained calm as his sharp grey eyes scanned the room, thanks to the sheer size of the sliding balcony window and the straight drop from the second floor, there was no way he was getting out that way. After weighing his options in a split second decision he ran across the room and slid into the closet that was right next to hers, grumbling to himself as he realized that he was standing amidst Richard Jensen's clothes.

Everything in his mind went completely blank when the light came on in the room and Suzanne walked in wearing a tailored suit and pencil skirt so tight he swore her could see the muscles moving in her far too small ass as she walked. She was still as slender and waif-like as she had been on her wedding day. But somehow the sadness he felt that day was no longer what he saw when he looked at her. He saw the same woman in the lavender shirt and the khaki pants that moved through the Louvre, or that slinky bright dress she wore the night he took her to dinner the next night…he saw the woman he fell in love with as she was spread out on his bed like a porcelain angel.

Eames was rooted to the spot as she began to methodically undress, peeling off the jacket, and shirt, and finally the skirt. A slight wobble on the four inch "fuck me pumps" that she was wearing revealed that she must have enjoyed a couple of those dirty vodka martinis she loved so much. But as she skirt pooled on the floor he was assailed with the sight of her beautiful body in a very light pink lace bra, matching thong and garter belt set that held up the black seamed thigh-high stockings she had on.

His body roared to life and he felt little better than a wild animal as he actually felt himself growl lowly as the desire and lust set his blood on fire. He was unable to move, riveted to the spot as she grabbed her nightgown and walked to the bathroom. He should have left…but he _couldn't._ He needed to wait to see her fall asleep; he needed to try and touch her even if it was just for a selfish moment. It had been so long since he'd touched her.

She emerged from the bathroom a minute later and turned off the light, her long hair was free from the tight ponytail and her face had been scrubbed clean of the smoky eye and red lipped makeup. She was completely fresh and as her skin perfumed the room, he couldn't stop the deep breath he drew in to savor it. Suzanne turned down the sheets and climbed into the big bed all alone. He watched patiently as she made herself comfortable, and when she gave a breathless sigh into the empty room he felt his mouth open in a wordless, desperate, pant as she reached into the little bedside table to pull out the small satin bag.

* * *

**Oh my! What do we have here?**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: I apologize for the delay…it has been quite a busy weekend…but in return I give you a little smut before the real action begins. : ) **

**As always thank you so, so much to those who have been so completely generous with the reviews and the love! I promise to work extra hard this week to keep the action coming!**

**As a side note…uh…I have no explanation for the inspiration…Eames does what he wants.**

* * *

_Los Angeles, California_

_2010_

* * *

Suzanne had definitely enjoyed her meal and the evening out with Nita, and she _really_ enjoyed the two dirty martinis that she had with dinner. Her head was pleasantly buzzing to the point that she almost considered calling a cab to get home, but the rational side of her mind calculated that with only two drinks and four hours of eating, she was really fine to drive.

She was driving through Malibu when the Bluetooth in her car chirped that she was getting and incoming phone call. She half hoped it was Richard, but even before she looked at the caller ID she knew that it wouldn't be, not with the board meeting that he had in the morning.

"Hello." She answered. Her voice was rather relaxed thanks to the awesome company she'd had tonight. It had been so long since she had been able to relax and talk with a girl friend.

"Suzanne?"

It was Arthur.

"Yes it is," she laughed as the vodka talked more than she would have liked. "How was your day, Mr. Collins?"

There was a pause for a moment, "Um, it was great actually." He laughed warmly into the phone. "I just wanted to give you an update on the Vancouver itinerary."

"Go ahead," Suzanne answered as she pulled up the driveway and into the garage.

"I have me, you and Ariadne booked on the nine fifty flight in the morning out of LAX on the 16th, we'll be in Vancouver a little after noon. I left your return open ended so you can return whenever you'd like." He explained as if he was reading off of an itemized dossier, which knowing Arthur, he was.

"That sounds fine," She sighed as she mentally counted off her appointment calendar for the month. "I really can't give more than a day, two at the very most."

There was silence on the other end of the line, "I completely understand." He finally spoke, "I just want to let you know that this means a lot that you are taking the time to do this."

Suzanne frowned angrily at the electronic display on her car as if it was the young man's face, "I'm doing this for _her_. That is it." She normally would have censored her raging emotions at the mere thought of Mallorie, but thanks to the alcohol that was buzzing in her system; she had lost the filter that normally controlled these things. "I owe her, Arthur. I owe her for not paying attention to the fact that she was drowning right in front of my eyes because I was too caught up with being selfish with _him_. The sooner this is over the better and after that I want nothing to do with any of it ever again."

He didn't reply but she could hear him sigh into the phone sadly, "I understand. I'll let you go, Suzanne. I'll see you on the 16th, please be well until then."

"Goodbye, Arthur."

Suzanne shut off the car and took a deep breath; she could already feel the tears threatening to come- damn martinis. With a deep breath she banished them away and walked into the house, absently punching in the code to the security pad to unlock the door and re-locking it behind her. The house was empty as usual, and as her heels loudly clicked on the limestone tiled floor she didn't even bother to look around at the place, she just wanted to go upstairs and go to sleep. It had been too long of a day, between the aggravation of work, and the unintentional aggravation of agreeing to help Arthur, and by proxy Cobb himself, she'd had enough.

Ugh, and now she got to slide into a freezing cold bed and sleep all alone when all she wanted was comfort.

She walked into her bedroom and didn't even bother to flip on the light. It was a full moon anyhow and the light that came pouring through the massive windows was no different than a floodlight. She stripped off her suit and smiled at her own foggy brain as she wobbled on her high heels. She sighed sadly as she grabbed her nightgown from the bed and sauntered into the bathroom in her pink negligee that would, once again, be seen only by her own eyes.

It was two steps before the bathroom door that she first noticed it.

A very faint aroma of something raw, warm and musky…a scent that entered her nose and instantly bypassed everything as it surged into the most primitive part of her brain. Without warning a flood of memories began to assail her with an almost brutal effect. Her skin prickled and shivered as her core instantly awoke like a match thrown onto gasoline soaked rags- exploding to life in a ball of flames. She barely was able to walk into the bathroom and close the door before her knees gave way and she sank down to sit on the lid of the toilet as the feelings overwhelmed her.

Everything, she could feel _everything_.

His voice, low and lusty in her ear, the warmth of his strong arms around her, the feeling of his perfectly sized cock as it drove her over the edge again and again, the taste of his utterly masculine essence on her tongue as he lay back and gave it all to her. Suzanne was flushed from head to toe as she literally held her head in her hands and shook from the arousal that was assailing her.

She needed release; but she didn't trust herself to do it now. The few ridiculously expensive toys she'd recently purchased managed to ward off the loneliness of having Richard gone, but she'd always been so careful never to think of _him_ while she was pleasuring herself.

Now all she could think of _was_ him…Eames…_Edward_.

If she touched herself, she'd be lost again. She knew that she'd always see him, always want him, and that when her husband came back to their bed…it wouldn't be him that she would be seeing as they made love.

It took her almost ten minutes before she could undress and wash her face, the cold washcloth helped to chill her overheated skin. Suzanne grumbled at her foolishness, this would be the last time that she had a few drinks and came home to an empty house. Olfactory hallucinations of an ex-lover were not exactly something that she had the presence of mind, or the time to deal with. She finally chalked it up to exhaustion, alcohol, and future dealings with Cobb, and as she left the bathroom and walked across her empty bedroom she was quite sure that she could take care of herself and still keep her sanity.

She pulled back the covers and climbed into the mountain of silky, soft sheets, enjoying the way the cool fabric helped to soothe the animal lust that was still tickling in her very damp center. But the minute her head hit the pillow, she smelled it again…stronger this time. As if he'd been laying on her pillow. A high, almost defeated sigh escaped from her lips as her fingers instinctively trailed down the silky fabric of her nightgown, slipping beneath the blankets to touch the smooth skin of her perfectly maintained femininity. She was fastidious about her appearance for her husband's sake, constant waxing appointments that were ridiculously painful, but kept her immaculate at all times.

Not that he got close enough to it to notice. Richard didn't enjoy giving oral sex, and even receiving it took all the convincing she could muster. He refused to believe that she wanted to be on her knees in front of him, it was 'beneath them' and degrading.

Her fingers finally stroked the little swelling button of flesh that was already completely slick with moisture and in an instant her husband's face was gone and as her eyes slid closed, just as she knew he would be… he was waiting for her.

Suzanne gasped out as she remembered a morning soak in the tub that had quickly gotten out of hand. One minute she was playfully straddling him and licking drops of water from his neck and his tanned, tattooed chest while giving him a good, hard jerk beneath the water, and the next thing she knew he lifted her up and practically threw their bodies onto the hardwood floor.

She'd yelped in surprise and utter shock as his solid, muscular frame took the brunt of the impact. But before she could say or do anything he was ravishing every inch of her body with his mouth; devouring her sex as their soaking wet bodies, slick with the soothing lavender bath oil she'd put in the water, writhed on the floor in an obscenely wicked rhythm. He made her come again and again until she sobbed out her pleasure, big, fat tears streaming out of her eyes as she begged and pleaded with him to let her come down, that she couldn't stay high like that any longer.

But he wouldn't stop; instead he rose up, lifted her legs around his waist and put his lips to her ear, soothing her with his smooth as honey voice as his hard length slid into her throbbing heat. "Shhh, darling, relax…just let it come…let yourself go…I'll take you there…come with me, love…let me feel you…"

Suzanne was writhing against the blankets and moaning out into the empty house as she tried to bring herself there, but her fingers just weren't enough. As talented as they were, both the ones that were circling the hard little nub at a furious pace and the two that were pumping inside her-it wasn't doing it. She reached out blindly for her bedside table, knowing that silicone would probably be just as ineffective, but if she didn't release soon she was going to lose her mind.

:o:o:o:o

Eames had never been a creature possessed with any measurable amount of self-control, but as he stood in Richard _fucking_ Jensen's closet amidst his disgustingly expensive clothes and listened to his beautiful woman gasping and groaning like she needed his touch…the fact that he stayed still deserved some sort of goddamn award.

The moonlight was the only way he could see out of the closet, and unfortunately in the darkness he couldn't make out as much as he wanted. But he saw enough to know that she was laying on those pristine white sheets in that soft, thin silk nightie that smelled like lavender and honey. Her black hair was fanned out like an ebony halo around her head, and he couldn't see what her hands were doing beneath the blankets, but he could hear the little whimpers and whines that came across the room.

It was absolute torture.

He knew that she was no doubt playing that delicious soaking wet pussy of hers with the same skill that Mozart played a piano, and the fact that he was condemned to stand here in the darkness and only watch her was more than he could bear. He knew every inch of that body-he'd _tasted _it all and it was the memory of her flesh that literally had him salivating. His hand moved to cup himself through the fabric of his pants, trying to squeeze the rigid flesh to calm the raging pressure. The simple motion had the exact opposite effect. The moment he touched himself, the screaming need in his rock hard cock made him clench his jaw.

He needed to release. He needed to calm himself down or he was going to stalk out of here and take her right now. And with their past history, he didn't trust her not to kill him. So he regretfully and ruefully realized that his only way to relieve the ache that was overwhelming his groin and his mind was to go ahead and give himself a hand.

Here in her husband's closet. It was bloody fucking pathetic.

Eames bit his lip and growled lowly as he silently took down his zipper and reached into his pants to pull himself free. Admittedly it wasn't the most comfortable scenario, but he didn't dare unfasten his belt and let his trousers hit the floor, the last thing he needed was to be discovered in her closet with his pants literally around his ankles. That combined with the black g-string he had stashed in his pocket would be difficult to explain away. Though right now, possessed with the kind of raging hard-on he was suffering from, temporary insanity might actually be a successful plea.

His palm was warm as he circled the hard span of flesh and gave a good squeeze as he let his hand slide up to the tip where a small bit of moisture had already collected, as if his own body was weeping at the thought of being separated from the gorgeous form on the bed. He closed his eyes and braced himself against the frame of the door as he concentrated on her voice; it was the only thing he could clearly make out. The breathy pants and whines in her voice instantly brought him back to his Paris flat two years ago.

One would think that they would have had been with one another for years the way they knew each other's bodies. It was as if they were just in tune to what the other one needed, being together and giving one another pleasure was as natural as breathing.

He recalled a morning when she'd been particularly feisty, she'd spent an obnoxious amount of time washing and drying that long, thick mane of hair, and when it was perfectly coiffed she made a show of stalking over to him completely naked as he sat at the table with his morning paper to ask him how soft it was. He'd run his fingers through it with almost covetous enjoyment while she suddenly turned to give him better access to the back, arching her spine and leaning against the end of the table with an appreciative purr.

It was when her green eyes looked over her shoulder with a mischievous gleam at him that he lost control. "Do you know why I made it all soft?" She'd breathed as she practically rubbed her curvy, round ass against the thin fabric of his old robe, "'Cause I want you to hold onto it while you fuck me."

He'd been more than eager to strip down and weave his fist into the ebony mass, tugging just hard enough to have her arch her back into that primitive shape that gave him the perfect access to her sex. It was pure, animal bliss, having her keen and cry out as he held her tight, one hand in her hair and the other on her hip, as he began a punishing but unhurried rhythm, hitting her deep and slow.

A low buzzing noise drew him out of his memory and he squinted enough in the dark to notice that she'd added a little something else to her enjoyment. His hand pumped up and down on himself faster and faster as he tried desperately to see anything at all. She'd never used any sort of toys in Paris, it was an ego boost to know that possibly after she'd been with him that she needed something else to satisfy her the way that he could.

Her moans were getting louder and louder, and Eames had to bite down on his lip as she started mumbling incoherently. He suddenly wanted to drive to wherever she'd had dinner tonight and personally tip the bartender handsomely, because he'd managed to cut right through that frosty shell he'd seen on her wedding day and bring back his stunningly uninhibited woman.

"Yes…" She whined loudly, "Oh…please…_Edward_…more…"

His mouth dropped open in shock as an almost overwhelming surge of white-hot arousal tore through his body- she was calling out _his_ name. In her bed, the same one she shared with her fucking husband, she was calling out _his_ name because she belonged to him. Because just like he couldn't be with another woman, deep down she couldn't be satisfied with anyone but him. Eames' entire lower body tightened and he tried to slow down to delay the climax until after she had finished, but when she kept gasping in that breathless tone, he knew he was fucking done for.

He reached out in the darkness to pull something out of the hamper of clothes right next to him. If he had a rational thought in his mind he would have been concerned about what it was he was getting prepared to come all over, it wasn't like a thief of his caliber to leave behind any evidence that he was in the place, and you couldn't get any more specific than a wad of semen for DNA. But the sweet realization that he was going to finish one hell of a wank all over something that belonged to a man he loathed with every ounce of his being while his wife called out his name as she got herself off…well, that was something altogether special.

It was somewhere in the middle of that insight that he heard her breath hitch in that glorious little huff; he knew she was coming, and by the movements on the bed, it was spectacular. She didn't stop moving when it was over, and his full lips fell into a predatory smirk when he realized what she was doing. Like clock-work he'd discovered after being with her for only one night, that after her first orgasm if he didn't stop fucking her- she'd come again only moments later. Such a responsive little minx.

His eyes closed again as he listened to her and concentrated on his own need, his hand working his cock relentlessly, seizing in agonizing pleasure as his climax barreled into him just as Suzanne called out his name into the darkness. Eames methodically pumped out his release into the fabric in his hand until he was completely spent, his knees shaking under the all consuming and draining power of his orgasm.

He was actually trembling as he threw the clothing back into the same hamper he found it in and gingerly tucked himself back into his pants, amazed that it was somehow still semi-hard. Though it was simple enough to rationalize, it had been the worst temptation to watch her and not touch her. His body knew how good it was between them, and for a moment he was panicked to think that he'd lose the ability to please himself, just as he'd lost the pleasure in other women. That is body would tell him that it was Suzanne's warmth or nothing at all.

His sharp grey eyes focused on the bed as she sat up slowly and walked to the bathroom. He could hear the water running and he shivered at the thought that she was so thoroughly pleased that she needed to clean herself afterwards. It was only another minute before she walked back across the room and climbed into bed, fixing her little helper into her nightstand before laying back down and pulling the covers up.

Eames waited for twenty minutes or so, making sure that she wasn't moving at all, before he silently slid out of the closet and into the bedroom. He could see the door, and it would have taken nothing at all to just walk out, but he couldn't do it without seeing her up close. So like a fool he walked to her bedside and stood there as he stared down at her with a tender smile. She was always so incredibly beautiful when she slept. Her pale skin almost glowed in the moonlight and before he could stop himself he was leaning over her.

He took a deep breath as he stared at her upturned face, her vibrant green eyes were closed, and her pretty pink lips were just slightly parted to let out her soft breaths. Eames bit his lip thoughtfully at the barest hint of blush still staining her cheeks after her release. Goddamn it all, he loved this bloody woman. It was the insane emotions that made him do it. He knew from spending a blissful month in the same bed as her that she slept like the dead, but it was still absolutely stupid. Without a thought he leaned over her sleeping, honey sweet smelling face and placed the barest gossamer kiss with his soft lips on hers.

Eames' heart clenched as he disappeared from her room a moment later. He knew the next time he saw her would be face-to-face in Vancouver. Arthur had no idea that Cobb had brought him into the mission; he was convinced that Suzanne could be coaxed into giving up the codes after a little work with Ariadne. Dom refused to put his fate in the hands of such few people. He wanted him to get them from her. Eames knew that by the end of this he would have lied to her again, and betrayed her worse than he had in Paris. She would never forgive him. There was a very real chance that he would lose her forever.

He cleared the choking lump of sadness from his throat with a tight cough as he jogged down the Jensen's secluded driveway and jumped into the black Audi R8 coupe he'd managed to get a hold of when he flew in from New Orleans two days ago. At first it had seemed frivolous, but now, as the weight of the entire situation began to push down on his shoulders, he knew that he wanted nothing more than to fuck the entire plan and drive the damn thing to Vancouver instead of flying. He didn't care how much it would piss off Cobb; he couldn't stay here and watch Suzanne for another week or so. His lips still tingled from touching hers for only a heartbeat, and already he had to fight with everything he had not to run back into her house and jump into her bed.

If he stayed-he couldn't be trusted.

He sighed and stared up through the windshield at the moon in the December sky, Vancouver in the middle of winter… nice bloody planning, Arthur. Well, at least the Audi was all wheel drive.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: And here we have it folks…the meet up!**

**Also a bit of Arthur and Ariadne being…well adorable.**

**Please read and review! The love is always, always welcome ; )**

* * *

_Los Angeles, California_

_2010_

* * *

Suzanne stood in the Air Canada terminal of LAX two weeks later, on December 16th promptly at seven-thirty in the morning. She smiled at the way that Arthur had been so specific with the phone message that he'd left her last night, letting her know that she was checked in. He'd even gone as far as to take her passport information over the phone so he could have her boarding pass ready to go.

It was nice to know that she was dealing with someone so thoughtful when she was getting ready to do something that she hoped to avoid like the plague.

She had been mentally preparing to see Dominick Cobb for the last week and a half, but she still wasn't sure what her first instinct was going to be when she saw him. She was pretty sure that she could rein in the urge to throw-up or burst into tears at the memory of Mal, but she wasn't quite ready to rule out punching him in the face. Depending on the way he greeted her and the mood that she was in after the three hour flight- that could definitely still be an option.

Suzanne yawned and looked down at her phone, examining the emails that were still pouring in from work. She'd had to do some clever rescheduling to even free herself up; Nita was covering her in the office, and Nigel was making himself available for any network issues.

And she'd out and out lied to Richard.

Because to be honest, taking a trip to Vancouver to meet with an extractor who planned to extort an important corporate client and personal friend, was not going to go over well at all with her husband.

So she'd settled on a rather easy to believe little white lie that she was jetting up to Vancouver on a Thursday morning so she could spend some time with her cousin Erika who was in town for a long weekend. It was the easiest thing she had. Her cousin was a traveling sports photographer with ESPN and she normally spent time moving all over the world, and they barely saw one another. The last time they met up, Suzanne was in London last summer, so she'd simply told Richard that it was her turn to visit.

It wasn't like he'd call her family and ask.

She checked the weather app on her iPhone and frowned. It was going to be 35 degrees and rainy when they arrived. Why in God's name were they meeting up there when everyone either lived, or was currently in Los Angeles?

She'd chosen semi-sensible travel attire to prepare for the weather. She was wearing an impossibly soft white Merino wool sweater with a large cowl neck and a long black figure hugging Donna Karan pencil skirt that ended mid-calf, on her feet were her favorite Louboutin thigh-high black leather boots with a reasonable three inch heel. She balanced her long white wool pea-coat over the same arm that held her carryon duffle and her matching suitcase was next to her. The extra bag was thanks to the lovely security at the airport and the insane rules about liquids, she was _not_ about to leave home without her hair products and perfume. No matter how short the trip was.

"Suzanne!"

She heard her name and turned around to see Arthur walking up to her in a lovely charcoal grey suit with a maroon shirt and tie underneath it. Ariadne was right next to him, dressed as she was the other day in a bohemian inspired outfit with black skinny jeans, layered shirts under her red blazer and a colorful silk scarf around her neck.

"Good morning," She answered politely.

"So nice to see you again," Ariadne spoke up with a sweet smile on her doll-like face. Her big brown eyes darted to Suzanne's multiple bags and back up at Arthur before speaking in a rather wry tone. "I guess I owe you ten bucks?"

Suzanne was puzzled for a moment before Arthur chuckled warmly and explained, "Ariadne here likes to challenge herself to get everything into a carry on. I tried to inform her that a suit does not look well after being rolled like a sleeping bag."

"Not to mention what about your shampoo and product?" Suzanne questioned.

"You can just buy something cheap at the airport." Ariadne answered with a shrug.

Suzanne laughed, her lips painted red with $34 a tube YSL _Rouge Volupte_ lipstick, "No, honey, after college you stop buying your shampoo in the generic 2 in 1 bottle. Besides you are far too cute to leave your hair to chance when you are in the company of a gentleman that should buy stock in Dolce and Gabbana because he has the entire line."

Both Ariadne and Arthur flushed a very charming shade of pink and she could only laugh as he fumbled with his briefcase before he produced a neatly folded piece of paper, "This is your boarding pass. They only have an executive class flying this distance so I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Suzanne answered. "I used to fly on cargo planes into Siberia from Moscow in the middle of winter, so believe it or not I am not that picky."

"That's when you were designing, right?" Ariadne asked excitedly. "I read your paper on modifying the design on computer driven diesel engines. It was incredible; I can't believe you wrote that program. It's such a shame that you aren't doing it anymore."

Her green eyes lit on Arthur who looked slightly upset and uneasy about the conversation, as if her was just waiting for her to explode like she had twice before. But at the moment Suzanne realized that it wasn't his fault about what happened to Mal, and it wasn't him who had left her in Paris. She'd done nothing but be nasty to him for no reason at all. It needed to stop.

"I just lost my muse," she finally responded calmly. "You need passion for architecture and design, I know you know that. I just didn't have it anymore."

"Maybe you'll find it again," Ariadne seemed to instinctively pick up on the subtle unease of the situation. "But either way I am absolutely honored to work with you."

"Thanks." Suzanne answered with a small smile as she looked up at the departure screen, wanting to change the subject before she started thinking about things she wanted to forget. "Let's get going, security is awful on Thursdays."

:o:o:o:o

After almost two hours of pushing through security and taking off her boots that she loved more than anything, Suzanne followed Arthur and Ariadne as they walked through the concourse and onto the plane. She watched them with increasing interest as the tall man leaned over with a playful smile to lift the tiny woman's carry on and carefully slide it into the overhead compartment. There was something so undeniably sweet about the gesture and the way that her brown eyes shyly lit up at the attention. It was just so pure and innocent…and for a moment Suzanne was jealous.

To be the genuine center of a man's attention like that again. She had only felt it once in her life, and it had been so long. She shook off the foolish feeling and hefted up her own bag to the compartment across the aisle from the young couple.

Arthur turned around immediately to help her close the door, "You should have let me get that." He laughed with an almost scolding tone.

"Oh, come on, Arthur," Suzanne laughed it off. "I can handle this, you know me."

He shook his head and took his seat neck to Ariadne and across the aisle from Suzanne; he strapped in his seatbelt for a heartbeat before he unfastened it a minute later and reached under his seat to grab his briefcase. "Before I forget," he cleared his throat, "I know that you weren't sure about staying over for one night, but I made a reservation at L'Hermitage for you. Just a small king suite, I think it would be best to have a good night's sleep and a solid day of work."

"Thank you." She answered. "I'll probably take you up on that."

"Ariadne and I will be staying there as well." He added unnecessarily, "So, um, you don't have to worry about eating dinner alone or anything, if you want company, that is."

Suzanne nodded and chuckled dryly, she'd eaten dinner alone for the last month at home. "You guys are too much. Thanks _again_. It definitely depends on how tired I am, but I can imagine no matter what I'll be hungry."

"Have a good flight." He said as he leaned back in his seat, "We'll be there in no time."

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne closed her eyes as the plane taxied down the runway and took off. The plane was oddly empty with only the three of them and four other passengers in the executive first class cabin. Her eyes were heavy and she was lulled into sleep almost immediately.

She was absolutely exhausted. For the past two weeks she'd been plagued by the most constant and vivid dreams, and all of them had been about _him_. Eames. She'd even given up trying not to say his name.

He was always with her. In the middle of the day in her busy office she swore she heard his warm laugh, in the quiet of her empty house she could feel his presence, at night in her bed she could smell his amazing scent, and in her dreams he haunted her with memories of his touch.

She actually woke one night out of a dead sleep with her lips tingling, and she could have sworn that she felt the amazing pressure of his full lips on hers. The feeling was enough to have her grasping at the crescent moon pendant she still wore around her neck as a totem to make sure that she was in reality and wasn't still dreaming.

The split second need to question her surroundings was absolutely disconcerting. She half wanted to book an appointment with a therapist to make sure that she wasn't going completely insane. That would make an interesting discussion.

"_Doctor, I think I'm being haunted by the memories of my ex-lover who tore out my heart two years ago. Oh, yes, I'm married to someone else… pretty sure I did that as a defense mechanism. What? Oh, yeah, I'd probably tear his face off if I saw him again...right before I tore off my clothes and fucked his perfect cock until I came my brains out. No problem…I'll let you get the white coat, I'll wait right here."_

Suzanne took a deep breath to center her mind- it failed.

Her eyes snapped open as she caught the scent of his cologne in the air. Like a woman possessed she sat straight up and whipped her head around the cabin. Her nose zeroed in on a man that was sitting two rows away. He was a young businessman in a smartly tailored suit, his hair was gelled into a spiky hairstyle that was a bit too teenager to be considered professional. But apparently he made enough money to wear _Frederic Malle's Musc Ravageur_.

She tapped her hands anxiously on the armrest as she tried to ignore it, but it was fucking pointless. She grumbled as she squeezed the bridge of her nose, counting back from 100. When that didn't work she settled on pressing the call button for the stewardess to get a damn alcoholic beverage at eleven in the morning.

It was certainly better than walking over to the guy and asking to sit on his lap and sniff him for the rest of the flight.

:o:o:o:o

Thankfully two mimosas managed to calm her thoughts, despite the fact that is did nothing for the hot tingling flesh between her legs, and by the time that they landed in Vancouver she was at least in a much bubblier mood.

Arthur again helped Ariadne with her bags and after they got off the plane, he proceeded to act like a complete gentleman as he got a carriage and loaded up Suzanne's suitcase and his own from the baggage turnstile before leading them to the rental car agency and the white Mercedes E 350 sedan that he had rented for the duration of their trip.

After a little shuffling and convincing that Ariadne was the smallest and would be just fine in the back seat, Suzanne slid into the passenger's side next to Arthur. He pulled out his phone and sent a few texts. She tried not to stare, but was very interested when he noticeably frowned and shook his head.

"We're going to head to the meeting place now." He announced as he put the car into gear and drove off.

Suzanne stared down at her lap as the champagne danced in her head. In two years even her hands had changed. Instead of plain gloss and short nails from working out on the oil rigs and other locations, she had a perfectly maintained set of long French manicured, gel coated nails. And then there was the ten carat square cut diamond ring and the matching platinum diamond covered wedding band on her left hand. She'd told Richard that she didn't want something so extravagant, but he assured her that it was the only size that was appropriate.

"_I would have thought that you would be the type too unconventional for something as foolish as a diamond ring."_

Eames' words were in her ear again and she had to physically shake her head to lose the memory.

Her eyes drifted out the window to stare at the grey, overcast skies, it was beginning to mirror her mood. "So, I've been meaning to ask why we are in Vancouver when everyone lives, or was just in, Los Angeles." She asked to change the subject and clear her mind.

Arthur gave a half smile as he turned on the wipers to ward off the cold drizzle that was starting to pick up in intensity, "Cobb is, well, overly cautious…"

"You mean paranoid," Ariadne interjected from the back seat.

"No comments from the peanut gallery," He scolded with a grin, making eyes at the pretty brunette in the rearview mirror. "_Anyway_, as I was saying, Cobb is overly cautious about meetings when it comes to this stuff. Originally he wanted Paris, but I didn't think it was practical to fly half way across the world for two days. So I arbitrarily picked Vancouver because it is supposed to have great cuisine."

"I see," Suzanne answered staring out at the rain. There was something about the explanation that seemed off, and far too simplistic for the corporate espionage they were about to engage in, but honestly she just wanted it to be over and the less she knew the less she'd have to lie to her husband about later.

They drove for a half hour or so from the airport and along the river through one of the rather industrial neighborhoods of the adjacent city of Burnaby; where Arthur pulled the Mercedes into the parking lot of a non-descript warehouse. She absently noted the presence of a maroon BMW sedan with Washington plates and a tinted black Audi coupe that still had dealer tags, next to them. It raised her interest seeing as there was only supposed to be one other person in on their meeting.

"Here we are," Arthur announced as he shut off the car.

The rain had thankfully slowed to a stop but that little concession unfortunately did nothing to combat the raw, biting cold. Now, being a New Englander, Suzanne had grown up in winters that made 35 degrees feel downright balmy, not to mention the time she spent in Siberia working- but after living a few years in sunny Southern California her blood had definitely thinned. She shivered even underneath the beautiful fitted white calf length pea-coat she was wearing, and was more than grateful when Arthur quickly ushered her and Ariadne into one of the building's side doors.

The warehouse was dark and empty for the most part. Her heels loudly clicked on the concrete floor as her green eyes adjusted to the low light. She looked around Arthur to see a couple of overhanging lights that illuminated a table that was strewn with papers in front of a large dry erase board and six chairs, three of which were currently occupied.

Her brain registered everything in slow motion. She first noticed a tan-skinned Indian man with a friendly face and a gregarious build, and sitting next to him was Dominick Cobb himself. He looked like he'd aged ten years instead of two. Dark circles sat heavily under his blue eyes and the slumped set of his shoulders looked like he had the weight of the world on them. But when she made eye contact with the third man, sitting at the end of the table, she forgot all about Cobb. Her heart seized into a terrible, chaotic, pounding rhythm and the air whooshed out of her lungs as if she'd been punched in the gut by a heavyweight boxer.

Eames…_Edward_.

Suzanne felt herself stop walking as she stared at him with an unblinking stare as if she had seen the ghost of a person long dead. Her mind couldn't form rational thoughts; instead it simply broadcast blanket observations about a man she thought she'd never see again. He was still unerringly masculine, his body strong and his face still beautiful, full lips and stormy grey eyes. Something in him still pulled at her very being with the same undeniable strength-undimmed and unchanging, even after all this time. She felt her entire body wash with a frozen feeling of shock, and yet at the same time her core ignited to life with the nuclear white-hot heat of a newborn star.

Her hands were trembling as his predatory gaze didn't move from her face. She felt so helpless…and as her throat choked up with emotion and tears pricked at her eyes her brain and steadfast reason slammed into her to give her the strength she needed.

This was the man that she gave her heart to, only to have him tear it apart. When she needed him the most, needed his love, at the lowest point in her life; he left her in darkness, to suffer alone while her world crumbled. He was the reason that she felt like half a person when she returned home from Paris. Suzanne finally managed to take in a trembling breath and steady herself.

"It's nice to see you guys," Cobb spoke quietly. "Thanks for coming."

Arthur dropped his briefcase and crossed his arms, not moving from Suzanne's side. "What is he doing here, Dom?" The anger and accusation in his normally calm voice shocked her.

Cobb stood up and put his hands in his pockets as he stared Arthur down. Ariadne broke the silence, "Who are you talking about, Arthur?"

"He's talking about _me_, darling."

Eames spoke with a deadpanned tone and Suzanne couldn't stop her body from shivering at the sound of that same deep, honey smooth voice- the same one that had been haunting her dreams.

"I'll save you from wondering, Arthur. He wanted the best people on this job- and you are looking at the best."

"You purposely left him out of our discussions," Arthur accused Cobb in a cold tone. "I don't appreciate being lied to, _again_. Because the last damn time you felt the need to do what you had to do to get back to your children, we all found ourselves in the middle of a goddamn warzone facing the threat of ending up lost in limbo."

Cobb shook his head, "I'm sorry. I needed to get her here and I knew she wouldn't come knowing Eames was going to be here."

Suzanne could feel her face flush red with rage as she snapped her head back at Cobb. "So you had no problem putting Arthur on the line to get what you wanted. Looks like some things never change, Dom, always willing to sacrifice those closest to you if it means you get what you want." For a split second she saw utter agony fill his crystal blue eyes, and she actually regretted her words.

"I'm sorry, Suzanne." He answered. "But you are right, for my children, I'll do anything."

She squared her shoulders and held her head up as she unbuttoned her coat and shrugged it off, moving to a vacant chair as far from Eames as humanly possible and taking a seat. "I'm here because I owe _her_; I don't need or want your apology. I just want to get this done and get home to my life as soon as possible."

After she sat down, both Arthur and Ariadne followed suit. She kept her eyes on Cobb, or on the table, never once even looking in his direction. She _refused_ to acknowledge him…she couldn't.

Finally the unfamiliar man next to her shifted in his chair and extended his hand, "I do not believe that we have met, my name is Yusuf. I am a chemist by trade." His voice was calm and dulcet, and his smile was genuine.

It took her a moment before she daintily reached out to take his large hand, "Suzanne Jensen, Executive Vice President of Software Technology and Security for Jensen Holdings International."

She didn't miss the snort from Eames' side of the table, at her name and her title. She had to bite her tongue to keep from saying anything back as Yusuf nodded slowly. Suddenly his dark brown eyes lit up as if he had realized something, "Ah, the unicorn, of course." He spoke more to himself than to anyone in particular.

A puzzled expression crossed her face, but she didn't reply. Instead she simply sat back in her chair and arranged her tight skirt as she crossed her legs high at the knee and purposely put the diamond ring on her left hand out on display. A taunting feeling of pride rose in her chest and she let her eyes lift up to meet his. She had been hoping to find shock on his face, and the more sadistic part of her wanted to see the same agony that Cobb had shown when he thought about Mal. But instead she saw nothing but fury.

Eames' eyes were as dark as thunderclouds radiating lust and anger at a level that left her reeling. His jaw was clenched tight and his nostrils flared before he drew his lower lip into his teeth with a sharp bite, all the while refusing to look away. It was the same look he had given her the first night she'd spent in his flat in Paris, when she'd challenged him about his ability to keep her satisfied. This wasn't the charming Englishman that had wooed her with pretty words; it was the alpha male that had lorded over her body and laid claim to everything in her that was a woman. It was the man she loved. Suzanne was powerless to stop the racing of her heart and the panic that threatened to overwhelm her.

She needed to get away from him…she needed to breathe.

"Arthur," She managed to speak in a calm tone. "Is there a restroom that I can use?"

He looked up from the paperwork and files that he was sorting for the six of them, almost surprised at her request. "Yeah, in the hall where we came in."

"Thank you."

Suzanne stood up and walked across the room, putting every ounce of her concentration into taking those steps, as if each one was something that she had to consciously instruct her body to carry out. Every movement was agonizingly long, and it seemed like an eternity until she reached out to open the heavy iron door and stepped inside the bathroom. The whole distance she could feel his gaze on her body, the heat of his stare almost seeming to scorch her skin.

She turned on the light and managed to make in another few feet to the sink before a wretched, heartbroken sob bubbled up from the depths of her soul and she had to cover her mouth to quiet her cries as she broke down.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Happy weekend...I give you some delicious confrontation ; ).**

**As always, read and review...it makes me smile! Thank you so much to those who have, I am so amazingly inspired by the response this has gotten so far...**

* * *

_Vancouver, British Columbia_

_2010_

* * *

He was _seething_.

Eames could barely control the torrent of emotion that was assailing him with almost savage force after seeing her face to face. Even though he'd watched her, _intimately_, since they'd separated two years ago, the reaction of being in her presence again, with her eyes on him and hearing her sweet voice was something that he was completely unprepared for.

He felt like an animal possessed with primal impulses beyond his control. One part of him wanted to put his hands around her pretty little neck and squeeze it for daring to flaunt another man's claim over her, while another wanted to make him fall to his knees to grovel and beg at her feet for forgiveness, and the last part…the part that had his cock as hard as a diamond, wanted to lay her on the nearest surface and fuck her until she screamed his name in front of everyone.

It took everything he had to stay calm and in his seat as she walked across the room away from him. He knew by the trembling in her limbs and the tempest of feeling behind those beautiful green eyes, that she was experiencing the same things that he was.

She might have been furious with him and Dom for lying to her, but it wasn't just anger that was there. He saw longing, and he saw the same desperate lust and want that had kept him awake at night since he last stood in her bedroom over her sleeping body. Despite the ridiculous fucking rock on her finger that she tried to show off to bait his jealousy, she still loved _him_- and she still wanted_ him_.

"I hope she's alright," Ariadne's concerned voice cut through the haze of his raging hormones. It actually took a second for the speech to register past the caveman fog.

"Yeah," Arthur snorted, "I'm sure she feels _great_."

Eames' eyes narrowed angrily as he stared at the thin point man, it was not the time to test him. "You have something you want to say to me, mate? Or are you just going to needle at me all day like a bloody little girl?"

Arthur frowned, "I have nothing to say to you, Eames, why would I? You obviously have little care for anything but yourself, and if getting in a fistfight with me makes you feel better about being a complete asshole to her, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but it's not worth the effort on my part."

The remark had him clenching his jaw tightly, and as he moved to get out of his chair and give Arthur a fat lip for his smart fucking mouth, Cobb spoke up. "That's enough. I don't have time for more bullshit between the two of you than normal."

Eames sat back in his chair and raised his arms in a sarcastic show of surrender, "I promise only the best behavior for the rest of the afternoon."

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne stood in the dingy bathroom doubled over in agony as tears streamed down her pale cheeks. Her trembling hand covered her mouth and she tried to breathe in and out to avoid hyperventilating from pure panic. Her mind was so scattered that it took her the better part of ten minutes before she was able to rationally control herself. She had to go back out there and face him. There was no other way for her to move on from him and get her life back.

But the way he looked at her.

It wasn't the look of a man who had left her two years ago and felt nothing. That would have been easier to bear. If she had looked into those stormy eyes and saw nothing at all reflected back, it would have been heart wrenching, but also liberating. It would have meant that she could leave with her broken heart and let it slowly mend.

But that wasn't what she found; when she looked into those eyes she saw a man who was as torn and destroyed as she was. Someone who had been haunted by the memories of a month spent in Paris, and the realization that what had happened in that loft was more than a simple love affair. And in that simple truth, she was left knowing that she couldn't move on.

It made her furious. If he had only stayed, or been man enough to tell her why he needed to leave, both of them would be happy. Irritated color suffused her cheeks with red blush and it finally snapped her out of it. She was not going to let this man do this to her. They were like this because of _his_ decisions, not hers.

Suzanne took one last deep breath in and out, before she reached for a paper towel and ran it under the faucet to dampen it enough to dab under her eyes. Thank God for waterproof makeup. She waited another five minutes until her face was back to normal before she squared up her shoulders and fluffed her shiny, black hair.

She stared into the small mirror at her reflection, seeing the confident, beautiful woman that was her mother's daughter. The advice that she gave her after she had lost her first job bid after college to a man who was less qualified echoed in her head. "Life is pain, kiddo, if you sit down and cry every time someone hurts you, you aren't going to go anywhere and your ass will be damn sore. You gotta get a helmet and toughen up."

With that in her head, she turned on her shiny black boots and walked out of the safety of the bathroom and back into the lion's den.

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne strode back into the warehouse and moved across the floor with the grace and poise that she carried herself with when she was at work meeting with the most powerful men in the world. Five pair of eyes instantly trained on her and she remained completely even-keeled.

"I'm sorry about that, I got nauseated all of a sudden," She said calmly as she sat back down. "It happens occasionally after I fly."

Cobb nodded and Arthur stood up to pass out six manila folders with all of the information that they required on their targeted, mark. Suzanne had an immediate sense of déjà vu, as she remembered the last time that she was sitting in one of these sessions…it was the first time they met. Her eyes instinctively flipped up and just as she knew that he would be, he was watching her.

"This is, as if I need to introduce him, David Woodruff, CEO of Cobol Engineering. He's 55, widowed, no children." Arthur began talking as he stood up. "Man has an eidetic memory and is about as secretive and paranoid as they come. We are looking for the fastest possible extraction we can get with him, in and out in less than an hour in real time. So under basic dosage here we are looking at 12 hours in the dream."

"Are you looking for sedation this time?" Yusuf questioned.

"No." Cobb answered definitively. "This guy is guaranteed to have a militarized subconscious that makes the US Special Forces look like kindergarteners. If we get killed in the dream we need to be able to wake up and get the hell out. This all goes down on January 10th."

"So how are you going to get the information you need if we can't approach him?" Ariadne asked.

"Well I am not going to be the one approaching him," Cobb reasoned. "It's why I asked Eames to come aboard."

Suzanne looked up from her work, genuinely interested in where this was going. She'd never really known what he did in the dream world; their mission with Graham two years ago was over before it began.

"My plan as it stands now is to have you design a perfect mock up of his office in Los Angeles, Ariadne. That is where Suzanne comes in. She can get us legitimately into the actual room and visualize everything to assist you in layout. No one has a capacity to recall like she does. Finally, I need Eames to have access to someone that would be able to sit at Woodruff's computer while he is in the office and not arouse suspicion." Cobb explained in a long breath.

"You are _looking_ at the only person Woodruff trusts at his computer," Suzanne answered in a curt tone. Eames chuckled under his breath and she let her eyes wander over to where he was sitting. "Is there something amusing Mr. Eames?" Her cold question did nothing to wipe the playful grin off of his full lips and the taunting look in his eye incensed her.

"Not at all Ms. _Jensen_," He answered as he flipped through his folder casually and turned it around to show her a glossy 8X10 of her walking out of Cobol's LA offices with her head software engineer James Marren two weeks ago after a meeting. "This man does regular maintenance of Woodruff's firewall on his personal computer. I need to be in a position to spend an _inordinate_ amount of time observing him."

Suzanne stiffened in her chair at the fact that Arthur had been doing surveillance on her without her knowledge. "Well I don't see how you expect to do that."

Eames smiled more, "You have an open posting at Jensen Holdings International for an intern to work with your Executive Assistant for the next month. Do you not remember placing that ad?"

She could feel her blood pressure rising at his goddamn cheeky tone. "I do. And I placed that ad because my Assistant Nita is extremely busy. She needs someone to work with her, not spend an eight hour day 'observing' someone else. Not to mention the fact that this little _thing _you are all involved in,is not going to compromise my professional integrity."

"I am sure that I can manage to do the job of an intern _and_ observe, darling. I have my resume and a few references if you'd like to see them to calm your mind about my qualifications. As my future employer it is important for you to know the type of skills and areas of _expertise_ I have to offer." He gestured around the room to the assembled and she narrowed her eyes angrily. She did not miss the thinly veiled innuendo in his words, and as the skin between her thighs tingled hotly at the memory she became even more irritated.

"Well, they certainly aren't _character_ references, Eames." She snapped back at him as her temper began to get the better of her.

"Suzanne," Arthur spoke quietly, "It is the easiest way to do it."

She turned to look at the apologetic look on the point man's face and took a deep breath. "Fine," She ground out, "He starts on Monday at eight in the morning. I expect that you will have everything legally required to be documented and verified through employment databases for whatever ridiculous alias he's going to use. I refuse to defraud the system."

"And as for _you_," She snarled at Eames, "I expect you to be there promptly on Monday morning; actually you should be there early. Dress code in my office is for men to be clean shaven and wear a _tailored_ suit and tie. You will behave appropriately and work up to my expectations, or I will fire your ass. Are we understood?"

"Mmm, so authoritative," He needled as he slowly sucked his lower lip into his mouth and teethed the flesh with a nip. "I'll be there at seven-thirty."

"Whatever," Suzanne snapped as she squeezed her legs together as she tried to mitigate the pressure that was building against her will. She was absolutely powerless to stop her body's physical reaction to his voice, and the incredible smell of his musky cologne…the arousal was out of control.

Eames stared at her and took notice of every little movement she made, and she knew that he could read her like an open book. Every move, every feeling, every thought, they all betrayed her. What was she doing putting herself in position to see him every day at work?

It was _fine. _She was a goddamn professional. It was only going to be a few weeks and then he was going to slither off to whatever hole he crawled out of. She was strong enough to get through this and after January 10th she would never see any of these people ever again.

"Excellent," Cobb nodded. "This is perfect."

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne didn't say a word for the next three hours as Cobb and Arthur mostly discussed things that she had no care at all to learn or know about. She begrudgingly spent her time like some sort of stalker, peering around her folder to see him taking notes on something or other with an intent look on his face. It was funny to think that she had spent so much time with the man, literally given him her heart, and she knew so little about him. Though as if her heart was wired to her brain she began to remember all of the things that she did know about him, the way that he looked utterly satisfied after a good, homemade meal, and the way he loved to hold her close in the morning when they were both too tired from a night of constant love-making to get up before noon.

The way he wanted her to tell him over and over again when he was buried to the hilt inside her depths that she loved him, but he never once said the words himself.

She frowned angrily and stared at him with narrowed eyes. He was wearing another awful mismatched grey sport coat and pants, and it is was even possible he had _another_ awful salmon colored polyester shirt on. It was almost difficult to believe that at one point someone had actually thought it was a good idea to manufacture something so hideous- and the fact that she knew it wasn't the only one that he had owned made it even worse. Apparently the heinous fashion mistake had been allowed to exist more than once. She really wanted to stop staring, especially when she started to notice the way he was chewing on his plump lower lip thoughtfully, but she couldn't tear her attention away…and just as she knew he would, eventually his eyes flitted up from whatever he was working on to stare at her.

Thankfully it wasn't long after that Arthur stood up and slid his stuff back into his briefcase. "I think that's enough for today, I don't know about the rest of you, but I am starving."

"You read my mind," Ariadne smiled warmly.

"You're always hungry," He laughed, "Not hard to figure out."

Cobb smiled very quickly before staring at his watch, "I have to go I have an eight o'clock flight back to LA. I want to get back to my kids; I'll take a rain check on dinner though. Call me when you get back in town so we can lay out everything." Arthur nodded, and Suzanne was surprised when he looked up at her, "It was really good to see you again, Suzanne."

She nodded reflexively, out of pure instinct, and she was more than a little surprised at the tone of his voice. It was almost wistful, sad, filled with the happier memories of days that were long gone by.

"Where are you eating?" Yusuf asked.

"Probably at the hotel," Ariadne answered brightly, "The three of us are staying at L'Hermitage for the night; do you want to join us?"

"I do not have any plans," He said with a smile, "That would be nice I think."

"I'll make reservations for the four of us," Arthur finished as they all stood up. "How's six?"

"Perfect."

Suzanne stood up and slid on her coat, buttoning up and preparing for the chill. She didn't really want to be drawn into any of the small talk so she walked off towards the front door as she fished out her phone and tried to shuffle through the 300 emails that she'd received since this morning. Two of them were from Nigel about the same email virus that had been bothering the company for the past few weeks. She really needed to sit down and decode the damn thing, but there hadn't been enough time recently. A snort of irritation escaped her nose and she realized that perhaps with her new "intern" she'd have the extra time to do what she needed.

"Not even going to say 'hello' to me, then?"

Eames' voice snapped her out of her thoughts and she was so startled that she almost dropped her phone on the ground. A chill that had nothing to do with the temperature raced up her spine and sent a wave of goosebumps across her skin. She looked up at him and noticed he was casually leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, his grey eyes filled with a barely disguised look of absolute hunger.

It only took a second for the shock to wear off before irritation and anger took its place, a realization of the betrayal and agony he'd made her endure- it made her furious.

"No." She snapped coldly. "I'm not."

Her tone seemed to ignite a fire in his eyes and he shrugged off the wall and practically stalked over to her, using his broad form to back her up. He brought his face to hers, his lips resting against her ear and she tried to lean away, but the wall prevented her escape. His breath was hot against her skin "After all this time? That's not very polite. You'd think by the way you are behaving, treating me like a stranger, that I didn't know the taste of every inch of you, love."

Rage and arousal stained her pale face bright red and she tried to control her breathing to prevent the waft of his cologne from invading her system, "Get away from me." She ground out angrily.

"We both know that's not what you are really thinking, Annie."

Suzanne instantly stiffened at the pet name that only he had ever used. It was too personal, it evoked too many memories…she turned to look at him, not bothering to care that his lips were practically brushing against hers. She used the anger in her body to give her strength as she channeled all of it into her trembling voice. "You don't get to call me that _ever_ again, do you understand me."

"Suzanne?" Arthur's concerned voice saved her. He was only distracted for a moment or two, but it was enough for her to push away from him towards the door.

Eames' hand snapped out as she turned away, grabbing her tightly around her arm and jerking her back towards his body. She responded instantly like a rabbit in a snare, wrenching her arm free and almost growing in fury as her hand flew of its own accord and struck him across the face with a hard slap, "Do _not _touch me!"

She panicked for a split second as his jaw clenched at her tone and she half expected him to hit her back, but instead he turned without another word and stalked out the door leaving her panting and flushed with irritation in front of four very shocked people.

:o:o:o:o

"Could I interest you in a drink to begin this evening?"

The waiter calmly asked the assembled foursome as they sat in the elegantly modern Q4 restaurant across from the lobby in their hotel. Suzanne smiled in a practiced way and quickly ordered a very dirty vodka martini, knowing that in order to calm the nerves that were still racing in her body that it was going to take more than one tonight.

"I will actually have what she is having," Yusuf said with a nod, "That sounds wonderful."

Arthur stared at the menu and Ariadne, before answering, "We're going to share a bottle of the Heitz Chardonnay, please."

The waiter calmly stared at the tiny brunette for a moment and she sighed before reaching into her bag and pulling out her passport for identification. "I know, I look five," She said with a wry grin.

"Thank you," he replied after staring at the document, "I'll be right back with those and to take your order."

"So," Yusuf began after the waiter walked off. "Is this everyone's first time in Vancouver? I have never been here before, but I must say that I am really enjoying it."

Suzanne couldn't help but smile at the man's pleasant demeanor, it was almost enough to forget about the very slight ache in her arm from where Eames had grabbed her earlier. "I had a conference here last year," She answered quietly. "The food is fantastic."

The four of them settled into amiable and sedate conversation about the menu, and she took a long gulp of her martini the moment that it landed in front of her. She should have ordered a salad with a low fat vinaigrette dressing, but after the day she had been having the linguine with clams in a white wine and butter sauce sounded so much more appealing. She was half listening to Arthur and Yusuf talk about something to do with sedated dreaming when her ears perked up at a very feminine giggle as it came from the area of the bar.

She took another sip from her drink and looked up. The mouthful of vodka burned her throat as she had to force it down. _He _was at the bar with a plastic looking blonde bimbo with a tiny waist, huge fake breasts and way too much make up on. Suzanne felt her hands ball into fists as he shamelessly rested his large hands on the bare skin of her thigh, left completely exposed by the ridiculous skin-tight black tube dress that she was wearing. For a moment she felt like she was intruding, that is until Eames looked up and stared directly at her, his grey eyes boring into hers.

He wanted her to see him with another woman.

He wanted her to feel jealousy as his talented fingers crept under the hem of her dress. He wanted her to feel the memories of lust and desire as he took the speared olive out of the woman's drink and slid it into his mouth, before leaning over and taking her lips in a vulgar and suggestive kiss.

Exactly the same way he had done with her.

Suzanne shouldn't have felt anything at all from the display. She was a happily married woman…there was _nothing_ between them anymore. But as he put his delicious mouth to the woman's ear and whispered something that had her less than covertly reaching across the space between them to eagerly cup him between his legs, she completely lost it.

She stood up and fished out a hundred dollar bill from her wallet with shaking hands, her voice was trembling and she couldn't control the tears that were coming to her green eyes. "I'm sorry guys I don't feel well, I'm going back to my room. Good night, thank you for inviting me to dinner."

She practically ran away from him for the second time that day, not stopping until she was in the elevator on the way to her room and the tears poured down her face. How was she going to look at that man every day and ignore the way that everything in her body screamed out for him? How long could she keep running before he cornered her once again, like the predator he was? And how long could she fight the overwhelming desire to willingly submit?


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Well, here we have another update with our favorite couple…**

**Two very different reactions to the same emotional situation, I'll leave it up to you to figure out who had an easier time. (Adult situations here, folks...; ))**

**I just wanted to get this out for a very lovely friend…all for you dear.**

**Thank you again to all who have reviewed! The response that this story has gotten so far has been so overwhelming and I am so amazed. Please continue!**

**Also I am releasing this without a crazy edit, so if necessary I shall revise!**

* * *

_Vancouver, British Columbia_

_2010_

* * *

Wallowing in self pity had never been something that Suzanne was particularly good at doing, but when an occasion like this presented itself, there was nothing better than a stocked mini-bar and a chick flick on television to just let it all out. Though after seeing Eames with that blonde bimbo Barbie doll at the bar her single serving rum and diet cokes were starting to go down a little easier than she would have liked- and she was fucking starving.

She sat back on the king bed and snuggled into the fluffy complimentary robe that came with the room as she sighed and stared at the television. _Pride and Prejudice_, it probably wasn't the best choice to avoid feeling like crap, but the cinematography and acting was certainly excellent.

Suddenly a gentle knock rapped on her door and Suzanne put her plastic cup down on the nightstand before walking over and peering out of the peep-hole to see Ariadne standing in the hall with a couple of Styrofoam containers in her hands. She unlocked the door and pulled it open.

The small brunette smiled at her, "I wanted to bring you up your dinner that you ordered. I know that you haven't had a chance to eat today and that you must be really hungry."

"Thanks." Suzanne said with a genuine smile, "Do you want to come in; I'm just starting a movie?"

"Oh, um, yeah sure," She answered before walking in and letting the door close behind her. "What are you watching?"

"Jane Austen, probably not the best idea." Suzanne shook her head as she realized that she had said more to her than she intended. Though somehow she was pretty sure that if the little architect was dating Arthur she probably knew a little bit about her sordid history with Eames, and quite frankly after the scene in the warehouse today and the way she ran off at dinner, it didn't really take a rocket scientist to figure it out.

Suzanne grabbed the wooden breakfast tray and sat back on the bed as she opened up the container to breathe in the delicious smell of the linguine. Oh, this was going to be amazing. She daintily forked a massive mouthful and chewed it with her eyes closed in absolute bliss. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd eaten anything with this many carbs in it. Richard had pretty much banished it from the house along with any dairy.

"Would you like a drink or anything?" She managed to ask Ariadne as she ungracefully shoveled in another bite, tearing off a bit of the buttery garlic bread side and dipping it in the white wine sauce.

"I don't want to intrude," She said as she awkwardly stood in the middle of the room and rocked back and forth on her combat boots.

Suzanne moved the tray off the bed and stood up to maneuver the other woman to the bed and sit her down before she walked over to the phone and called down to room service for a shaker, a bottle of Grey Goose vodka, a bottle of vermouth and a jar of olives. "Nonsense, Ariadne. I wouldn't have asked you in if it was a bother. Besides I don't think as a woman you are supposed to watch _Pride and Prejudice_ alone."

The supplies were in the room in no time and Suzanne quickly whipped up a shaker of dirty martinis and decanted them into the two frosted glasses that were brought up. She handed one off to Ariadne after she made her take off her shoes and coat and don the other fluffy robe that was in the bathroom. The two women sat companionably in silence as Suzanne polished off her meal.

She sat back and stretched her legs as she chewed on an olive and watched Mr. Darcy confess his love for the first time to an angry and heartbroken Elizabeth Bennett. The agonized and breathless plea was enough to make her chest ache and she took a long swallow of her drink as Ariadne sighed.

"Now that is amazing. How does a girl deal with something like that, I think I'd die."

Suzanne smiled and tilted her head to look at the younger woman, the alcohol long since making her relax. "So Arthur hasn't confessed his love yet?"

Her cheeks glowed bright red and she tried to hide in the voluminous neck of the fluffy robe, "Not in so many words. I mean we've, well…you know…"

"_Made_ love?" Suzanne supplied with a sly grin.

"Yes." She squeaked as she polished off her drink and jumped up to pour herself more and top off Suzanne's glass. "I can't believe I am telling you this."

"Well that's what another woman is for, you need to talk about this stuff to someone, and men are helpless." The words made her heart ache, she couldn't help but picture Mal sitting next to her in bed when they were in school, laughing and crying about everything in their lives. Truth be told, aside from her mother, she didn't really have anyone else to talk to herself.

Ariadne sat down and curled her thin legs underneath her, suddenly becoming very serious, almost the same look Suzanne had seen this afternoon as she talked about her work. "I want to tell him, because I have definitely never felt this way about anyone before. But, I should wait until he tells me, right? Isn't that how it's supposed to be?"

Suzanne shrugged and ran her hands through her long hair with a sigh, "Not necessarily. You should be honest with yourself. If you love him, tell him. I don't think life has rules like that when it comes to love."

"Did you tell him first?" She asked.

Suzanne opened her mouth to say "yes", recalling the ridiculous romance of that night in Paris, the way he held her close as they made love…and then she realized that Ariadne was talking about her husband, her brown eyes staring at the huge diamond ring on her finger. "Oh, no, Richard said it first. I wasn't expecting it."

"How did you meet if you don't mind me asking?"

"He recruited me when I was working a dreadfully boring job in Zurich, and it wasn't long after I moved to LA that he asked me to dinner." She explained as she took a drink, "And the rest is history. He proposed after we'd been together for a year, I _definitely_ wasn't expecting that."

"What about you and Arthur?" Suzanne redirected the conversation with a wave of her hand, she was pretty sure that she didn't need to hash out the details of her wedding when it was probably in a dossier the architect had already read about her.

Ariadne shrugged, "Cobb hired me to do a job about ten months ago. After it was all done I ended up in Los Angeles, he showed up that night at my hotel with flowers and asked me out to take a walk and look at the architecture of the city, and we haven't really been apart since then."

"That's adorable," She said with a wistful smile. "He's always been such a sweetheart. I'm glad he's happy."

"He absolutely adores you," Ariadne added, "I was seriously so intimidated to meet you. He gets this really thoughtful look on his face when he talks about you… and Mal. I wish I could have known you guys then."

Suzanne stared at the TV as her eyes watered and a few errant tears fell out at the mere mention of her friend and better days that were long gone by, "Those really were special times. _She_ was special. She would have loved you, Ariadne, a super creative little architect, I think you could give Mal a run for her money building mazes and that is saying something. She used to put Dom and me to shame."

The compliment made the young woman beam and she took a sip of her drink. "Okay, so I have to ask this, and if you want to kick my ass afterwards I completely understand, but um, what is up between you and Eames?"

She knew this was coming. Quite frankly she was amazed that Ariadne was nice enough to wait a good hour before bringing it up. "So you mean to tell me I wasn't the topic of discussion after I bailed from the dinner table? I find that hard to believe." Her voice was a bit more sarcastic and cutting than she meant it to be.

"Oh," Ariadne stuttered, "Um, no. Definitely not, I mean we were concerned. Well _I_ was concerned, Arthur was really pissed off, and Yusuf was…well he was really weird; he seemed to be really sad. You know what was _really_ funny though, it wasn't ten seconds after you walked away that Eames just got up and walked out by himself."

Suzanne snorted, it figured. He had no interest in the woman whatsoever, he just wanted to hurt her the way she had hurt him earlier by showing off her wedding ring.

"You two were involved, weren't you?"

Involved, that was one way to put it. Suzanne frowned angrily at the way that her stomach flip flopped and her thighs instantly warmed, yeah they had been involved all right. She had been head over heels in love with his ass and he had walked away and left her high and dry…yeah that was involved.

"Yes, we were lovers," She managed to answer as she finished her drink with a long swig.

"What happened?" Her voice was very small and tentative as Suzanne's shrewd green eyes turned sharply to look at her.

"You'd have to ask him. He left me. It was right after Mal passed, and he just took off without a word." She scoffed angrily, "And apparently _he's_ pissed that _I_ got married. I mean what was I supposed to do, sit around and wait for him to show back up when he was ready because he's God's gift of perfect cock? I don't think so."

Ariadne sputtered and coughed as she practically choked on her drink. Suzanne leaned over to give her a good pat on the back as she breathed in and out deeply trying to calm herself.

"Sorry about that."

"Oh, no problem," The red faced brunette squeaked. "I just don't think I was expecting that sort of comment, that's all."

It was Suzanne's turn to blush at her loose choice of words, "I'm brutally honest after a few drinks, sorry again."

"I'm not offended," She answered with a laugh. "Because quite frankly, I mean, you can kinda tell just by looking at him and the way he carries himself that he's probably like the King of Humping."

It was Suzanne's turn to break out in a cackling laugh, half because the girl was right and the other half because the sweet-faced little pixie had used the word "humping". In fact they both started laughing so hard like immature school girls that they were completely startled when there was a knock at the door.

Suzanne perked up her attention and walked to the door with a small sway in her step thanks to the martinis and the good company. She put her eye to the peep-hole to see a still perfectly dressed Arthur patiently waiting in the hall. She opened the door to greet the thin man with a pleasant, albeit slightly drunken smile.

"Good evening, Mr. Collins, would you like to join our little party?"

He laughed and shook his head, "No, it's alright, I just wanted to make sure that Ariadne was here."

Suzanne frowned, "Well I am not going to steal your girl and leave you all alone to work like a hermit, come on have a martini and come watch a movie with us."

Arthur laughed and bashfully stuffed his hands in his pockets, "Alright, I suppose I can ditch work for a few hours."

"Good," She said as she pulled him in and shut the door.

It took only a little embarrassing shuffle before he was situated in the middle of the bed with two ladies resting on either one of his shoulders and a good stiff drink his hand as they finished watching the embarrassingly romantic happy ending to the tale. Suzanne smiled genuinely as she enjoyed company for the first time in a while that didn't require her to play the role of "Richard Jensen's wife", and it was the closest that she'd come to feeling like Suzanne Williams in a very long time.

:o:o:o:o

The freezing rain had been steadily falling since Eames stormed out of the lobby of L'Hermitage, and he was actually glad for the five block walk back to the Westin Grand where he was staying. It served as a way to somewhat calm him down, though frankly he was so amped up and furious after the events of the afternoon that is could have been snowing and he still would have been heated.

It wasn't the way she'd snarked at him when he laid out the plan to take a job in her office, or even the way she was colder than ice when he approached her later. No, it was the fire in her eyes when she slapped him across the face for touching her that was boiling his blood. That powerful force of nature that he'd made love to in Paris had cast off the ice queen shell she'd built up and he'd seen his Annie again. Then there was the fact that he'd let himself press up against her and the solid barrier of the wall had made for a toxic combination of want and need that he'd been paying for in his pants ever since.

He wasn't even quite sure what made him foolish enough to parade that ridiculous looking woman in front of her…aside from the fact that he was making a point to himself, and her, that they were _far_ from over. And when she ran off, it was all the proof he needed.

Eames wiped the cold rain off of his face as he strolled into the lobby of the hotel and made his way to the elevator to his suite, completely oblivious to the people staring at his soaking wet clothes. He couldn't feel a goddamn thing. All he knew was that he was ready for a moment of triumph with that little souvenir he'd stolen from her bedroom.

In fact he was smiling like a fat cat who ate the canary as he walked onto his floor and suddenly noticed Yusuf standing by his door with a concerned look on his face.

"Where have you been, my friend?" He asked slowly.

"Taking a walk in this lovely weather," Eames answered with a quick grin as he reached into his pocket to grab his key card, "And now I plan to spend my evening with a bottle of Scotch and a few improper thoughts if you get my drift. I suggest you do the same."

The Indian man shook his head with a sigh, "You hurt her on purpose, and now you are gloating? I do not understand why you would do something like that to the woman you love."

Eames frowned angrily, "Yeah well I'm not the one of us that went off and got married to a total wanker and is all alone in her little palace at night. So forgive me if I don't have much in the way of sympathy for her when she tries to act like the wounded little bird, alright. She wanted to flaunt her ring in my face; I'll flaunt my cock in hers and make her sorry."

Yusuf didn't say a word; he simply turned on his heel and walked away. Half way down the hall he turned around and spoke up, "You talk as if you aren't the cause of it all, my friend. I hope for your sake that you remember that before the end."

:o:o:o:o

Those damn words were ringing in his head as he poured himself much more than two fingers of Scotch and drained it down in a couple of healthy swallows, before doing it again. Eames stripped off his wet clothes and stood in the middle of his room completely nude, so here he was with a healthy buzz, a bad temper and a fucking rager of a hard-on; there was only one way this night was going.

He rifled through his bag until he came up with the black g-string that he'd stolen from Suzanne's bedroom and got himself situated on the bed as if he was about to do something more constructive with his time than jerk-off, but, frankly, it was what is was this evening.

He sighed deeply as his hand trailed down the chilled skin of his abs and groaned pleasantly at the temperature difference between that and his almost blazing hot length. As he let his palm circle the flesh with a firm grip he found his other hand absently toying with the delicate lace. It was so incredibly soft, and he bit his lip at the thought of that same fabric touching every inch of her sweet center from back to front.

His eyes slid closed and as if she was a puppet in the myriad of fantasies that he'd concocted about her, she appeared clear as life behind his eye lids, clad only in the very same underwear that he was holding.

It was funny, though he was far too horny to pay it any more than a passing notice, but for the first time when he saw her, it wasn't the woman from two years ago. She appeared to him as she looked now. Her very slender, porcelain skin, her long hair that now spilled generously over her shoulders, the smoky eye makeup and the blood red lips that stood out on her face.

The thought of the ice queen being the one that was standing in front of him, letting her neatly manicured nails scratch down the front of his chest as she slid down to her knees made him growl out with arousal as he let his hand begin a powerful up and down tug on his straining manhood.

Eames couldn't help the overwhelming desire to taste her, and as he let the lace slide between his teeth to put the cotton part that sat against her center on his tongue, he practically salivated at the memory of her. And despite the fact that the fabric had been clean when he stole it, his mind was powerful enough to remember her flavor.

That one single act seemed to enhance everything, and he was pulled further into the image. He saw everything in startling detail.

Those ruby red lips wrapped around his cock, working the flesh with eager attention. He could see her pretty green eyes staring up at him with a mixture of arousal and awe as he wound his hand in her hair to gently guide her movements, her dainty hand coming up to circle the ridged flesh because it was too big for her to take all at once into her mouth. The sight of her fucking massive diamond wedding ring gleaming up at him…the ultimate slight; Jensen may have married her, but it was _him_ that she wanted. _His_ taste that she'd begged to swallow. It was enough to make him bite down hard enough to practically tear through the fragile lace.

Eames felt his entire lower body warm and clench up as he prepared to come, and he worked himself into an absolute frenzy at the mental image of Suzanne completely his again.

Suddenly he saw himself pulling out of her mouth, getting ready to finish off in a delightfully crude way on her perfect breasts that probably would have gotten him slapped again in real life; thankfully there was no need to worry here.

The knelt image blinked up at him with an almost adoring stare before she smiled and spoke in the same haunting voice from the past that he had heard over and over again in his dreams.

"_I love you, Edward." _

Eames sat up with a gasp as his eyes shot open and a wash of cold rush flowed across his body. Every ounce of lust disappeared and with it the glorious hard-on he'd been working. He angrily spit out the lace material and stormed across the room to get out of bed, as if that would make a difference and chase away the memory of her words.

With unnerving clarity he remembered Yusuf's statement.

This was _his _fault. _He_ was the reason that she was miserable and he was fucking lost.

Unable to satisfy his needs physically and to stop the cold shivers that were starting to wrack his frame, Eames walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower cranking up the hot water. He stood in the full length mirror and stared at himself, ignoring the dark circles that had begun to take residence under his eyes from lack of sleep. He had been a goddamn zombie since he left her home two weeks ago, aimlessly driving up the Pacific West Coast from LA to Vancouver.

He needed to make amends with her for what he had done, and if he was a noble man her forgiveness would be all that he sought. But he wasn't a noble man, he was selfish as hell. Eames wanted to grovel for her forgiveness and he wanted her back to right the wrongs so that they could be together again.

Fuck the job, fuck the team, and fuck her husband. Suzanne was the only thing he cared about.

Eames scrubbed his face with his palms and sighed. He turned to the tub and caught a glimpse of his waist and the dark ink scroll that stood out against his tanned skin. A sad smile played on his lips as he remembered the drunken fiasco in Rio after he'd learned about her engagement. He'd been absolutely blitzed on any liquor he could get his hands on and stumbled into a tattoo parlor to request something so that he'd never forget the woman he gave his heart to.

He half wondered if seeing it would make a difference to her. Knowing that even though he was a pathetic cowardly excuse for a man, he'd never stopped loving her.

And he hoped she'd listen long enough for him to explain.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Well hello! **

**I am so glad Yusuf got some love in the reviews! He's the little angel that sits on Eames' shoulder…unfortunately he doesn't always listen to him.**

**This chapter is a bit talky…but it needs to be : ). Sets up some interesting things…**

**I hope you all enjoy…and please continue to **_**review**_**…it makes me smile!**

**Throwing this out without a thorough edit, I love you all so much I don't want to be selfish and keep it to myself XD.**

* * *

_Los Angeles, California_

_2010_

* * *

It had been a very, very long time since Eames had been awake at six in the morning standing in the bathroom mirror shaving his face, and he was damn sure that he'd never been up this early with a brand new suit hanging on his door waiting to go to work and sit behind a desk for eight hours. But, yet, here he was. He was about to show up for his first day as an intern at Jensen Holdings International, and quite frankly he was actually excited about the whole thing.

The prospect of seeing Suzanne trussed up in one of her ridiculously expensive and obscenely tight suits was enough to make him actually consider taking a permanent position.

But he sighed as he realized that his new boss was going to be less than receptive to him after the incident in Vancouver. Both at the warehouse, and later with the blonde, he definitely had more than a little ass kissing that would need to be done before he was sure that she wasn't going to try to stab him with a pencil. He hadn't seen her at all after that night, preferring to drive back to Los Angeles first thing Friday morning with Yusuf in tow nursing a headache from the Scotch and a growing ache below his belt that was still bothering him three days later.

It was amazing that the quiet man didn't ask any questions for the entire twenty hour trip, despite the fact that he had been upset at his actions the previous night. He was the type of friend that Eames never would have imagined ever having, but was infinitely grateful for.

The chemist had decided to hang around the LA area until the job was complete, working at the library of Cobb's alma mater Cal-Tech to take advantage of the chemistry facilities.

Eames finished getting dressed and gave himself a half smile in the mirror as he walked out of the bathroom and grabbed his recently purchased leather brief case and threw it over his shoulder before stepping into the hallway of the bare bones one bedroom condo he'd been rented.

It was all part of the carefully crafted alias that Arthur had diligently set him up with.

He was now a 35-year-old London born divorcee who recently lost his prestigious job with HSBC and was relocating to LA with the hopes of starting over again. The point man had also been thoughtful enough to set him up at a condo complex on the edge of the financial district that basically catered to the recently divorced and the terminally single, _and_ he was kind enough to hand him a Metro pass while reminding him that an intern Executive Assistant that made $40,500 a year did not have the means to drive a brand new Audi R-8.

He made a mental note that next time he saw Arthur he was due for a good punch in the face.

The only part about the entire situation that was at least _moderately_ amusing was the name he'd been given- Thomas James Heathcliff. Just the thought of Suzanne hearing that was enough to make him laugh, and it almost made him feel better as he was subsequently trampled and manhandled on the red line on the way downtown.

Jensen Holdings was situated in a massive high rise near the corner of Fifth Avenue and South Grand in the heart of downtown. Thankfully it was only two blocks from the Pershing Square metro station, and as he walked through the congested foot traffic he openly wondered how a woman who wanted to live in a cute little cottage by the sea liked being in a place like this. Reluctantly he checked his watch and realized that he had just enough time to grab a pathetic excuse for a coffee at Starbucks before he walked in.

:o:o:o:o

Eames was proud of himself as he walked into the very modern office of Suzanne E. Jensen, Executive Vice President of Information Technology and Security at exactly 7:29am. He had a newly minted identification badge, and was summarily sent up to the tenth floor by a very charming middle-aged woman named Claire MacIlvaine, who assured him that he would fit right in.

As he walked off the elevator he stared straight ahead at the massive oak doors to her office and realized that two smaller desks flanked the main pathway. One was occupied by a woman he estimated to be in her late twenties, dressed and perfectly polished in a very flattering cream colored suit.

The purely male part of his brain was also keen to recognize the caramel color of her smooth skin and the rich cocoa brown of her wide eyes. She had long, straight black hair that was styled into an elegant ponytail, and as she stood up to meet him he was pleased to notice that she had a rather shapely figure on her as well.

Being a self-proclaimed connoisseur of culture, women especially, he wagered she was of Indian descent, and the name Nita Trivedi on the front of her desk, confirmed it.

He was instantly reminded of his good friend and constant voice of reason- perhaps Yusuf should make himself available for lunch one of these days.

"Good morning," Nita said with a pleasant smile that lit up her pretty face as she walked around the desk to extend her hand. "You must be Thomas, Claire just sent up the information."

Eames breathed in and turned on the charm he'd practiced for so long that it became like second nature. "Tom, if you would, Thomas reminds me a bit too much of my father, and I'm not that far gone." He took her hand in a gentle but firm shake and let a smile slide across his full lips as he winked playfully. "And you are?"

When the faint dusting of blush rose up on her cheeks from his smooth tone, he knew he was golden.

"Nita Trivedi, I'm Ms. Jensen's assistant. I have to say, I am quite impressed with the fact that Suzanne hired you over the phone, she _never_ does that. You must have something that caught her eye." She said with a laugh.

The nervous cough that followed almost perfectly mirrored the unintentional double entendre in his head- if she only knew.

She gestured to the open desk with a deep breath. "This is where you'll be working. I expect Suzanne any minute; she's been out of the office on business for the last couple of days, so she'll most likely be busy all day. She's in everyday by eight and leaves when she's done. So unfortunately you will have to adjust your schedule accordingly. I hope that isn't a problem."

"Not at all," He remarked with a casual nod, letting the sweetness come into his voice. "I have nothing to engage my time outside of work these days, sorry to say."

Nita smiled and he loved the almost bashful way that she avoided his eyes, so she was sweet _and _modest. Yusuf in a much more pleasing package, he mused.

"I almost forgot about the holiday!" She spoke up suddenly, "I can't believe that it is the 20th already. Suzanne is letting us have the 23rd through the 26th off. She's going back to Boston to have Christmas with her family, are you going to need more time to go home?"

Eames smiled at her; she was a lovely wealth of information. "I'm afraid not," He answered, "Flights to London are just so obscene this time of year, looks like I'll be out of luck."

"That's really too bad; you should be able to spend the time with a loved one. Though admittedly after a few days with my parents I am more than ready to run off, and we don't even celebrate the traditional holiday."

"You get used to it, darling." He said with a shrug, "The life of an expat."

Though in that moment he wanted to tell her that thanks to her little bit of knowledge, he was now planning on perhaps taking a trip to the east coast himself for the holiday. He'd always wanted to see New England in the winter.

Nita smiled and Eames followed her to the empty desk as she leaned over and pulled out a piece of paper with a long list of log-ons, passwords and his company email information. "Feel free to just get settled for now, I have a few things I need to get ready for her when she comes in, but after that if you don't mind, I have a couple of projects I'd like you to get started on."

"Absolutely," He answered as he nodded enthusiastically. "Is there anything I can get Ms. Jensen? Anything she likes in the morning to soothe her nerves?"

Nita paused and stared at him for a moment, and he cursed himself for the naturally suggestive tone that came to his voice when anything about Suzanne was involved. Made worse the fact that he _knew_ what she liked in the morning to soothe her nerves, it generally involved a slow, hard fuck and a loud orgasm before and after breakfast.

"Coffee is usually a good place to start," She said before pausing thoughtfully. "Alright, I'll give you the heads up that no one bothered to give me. Got a note pad?"

"I have a good memory, darling," He tapped the side of his head for emphasis, not wanting to tell the considerate woman that he knew her boss better than she knew herself. "Go ahead."

"Okay. I have to first come out and say that Suzanne is an amazing boss, she's a genius software engineer and she's probably the hardest working person in this place. But, she is_ very_ specific about a few things," Nita began as she held up her hand. "One, she gets five hundred phone calls a day and half of them aren't necessary. You need to make sure she doesn't get those. Two, there is only one person that gets through no matter what she's doing and that is her Mother. Three, we have two software engineers, James and Dave, and they are both the biggest pains in her ass. We need to deal with them accordingly. Oh, and she never eats lunch, somewhere in _your_ busy day you need to make sure she eats something. I swear one of these days she's going to vanish she's so skinny."

Eames sat back in his chair and smiled, "So keep her calm and relaxed, deal with children, let Mom through, and keep her fed, yeah?"

"Basically."

"I can manage that," He answered.

Nita snapped her finger, "And when she starts walking _really_ fast out of her office, do not ask her how her day is going."

"Got it."

She sat down at her desk and began to type furiously and Eames took that as a clue to get moving on something. He casually logged on to his computer and jumped onto the company intranet, looking over the building layout and the company directory. It wasn't long before he noticed that the software engineer that Suzanne assumed he was looking for had an office one floor below where he was sitting now, and Dickie-boy had a penthouse office that spanned the entire floor above.

He also noticed that he'd been added to the server list for e-mails that were tagged to Suzanne that he would be dealing with. He scrunched his nose in disgust and stared at his watch, he'd been an employee for twenty minutes and he already had thirty messages waiting.

If this was what a flunkie intern had to deal with, what did poor Annie endure?

Bloody hell, it was no wonder she was wound up tighter than a damn coil of wire. She didn't need a cup of coffee to relax her; she needed a good massage and a nice long fuck. An image of her lying back on her desk as he wrapped those long, gorgeous, stocking and garter clad legs around his waist flashed quickly through his mind and he instantly felt his cock respond and harden with a throbbing ache. He took a sharp breath in through his nose to deal with the unbearable desire that was sluicing through his veins.

Goddamn it all he needed her soon or he was going to go mad.

After a subtle shift in his seat and a delicate squeeze of his palm to adjust the screaming flesh he figured he'd better get to work. He had to at least try to deal with things and calm down before she walked in the door in an outfit that was no doubt going to put him over the edge. Because quite frankly losing his shit behind his new desk was no way to start off a work week.

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne gently blotted her red lips before adding another coat. She was always exacting about the way she looked when she went to work, but today, there was extra incentive to be flawless.

_He'd_ be there.

Granted she had long gotten over the punch in the gut feeling that she had when she saw him with the blonde at the bar in Vancouver. Most notably, once Ariadne had so nicely told her that he left the woman behind the moment she had run off to the elevator, letting her know that the entire damn thing was a stunt to make her jealous.

She tried to ignore the voice in her head that told her that he'd certainly succeeded. Even after the way he'd hurt her, all it took was the feel of his warm body against hers and the tickle of his breath against her skin in the warehouse to light her on fire. Her reaction to him was absolutely all-consuming and uncontrollable.

Suzanne tried to rationalize it purely as lust. She'd been without her husband for almost two months and she was so desperately lonely. She was looking forward to seeing him when he flew to meet her in Boston in a few days at her parent's house for Christmas. She hoped that maybe trying extra hard to be close to him would help her move on from Eames.

She had to try.

It certainly helped that she hadn't seen him after that first night. Arthur told her on the plane ride home the next afternoon that he'd driven home. It was a relief. And now he'd be on her turf, where she felt the strongest. It was going to be just fine.

She slid on the fitted slate grey Donna Karan suit coat over her black lace camisole and buttoned up the elaborate double breasted front. This was her favorite outfit. The jacket was perfectly tailored with long sleeves and almost military style placement of the buttons. The skirt was fitted and fell to her mid-calf with a slit in the back up to the knee that made it possible to walk, though even with that she was relegated to very short steps. She paired it with a reasonable four inch heeled Manolo Blahnik black suede pump.

But she wasn't completely innocent either. She had chosen a pair of nude thigh-highs with a very pronounced seam in the back, knowing that it would catch his eye. And even though he'd never see it, she was wearing a set of black lace La Perla bra, g-string and garters that were positively indecent. It was the only weapon she had to aide her self confidence.

The only strange thing was she was missing her favorite pair of panties to wear with this skirt. She was almost sure that it was in the last batch of clothes that she'd sent to the cleaners.

She touched up the tight ponytail that swept her long hair away from her face just as her phone rang. It was Richard. She hadn't talked to him since she returned from Vancouver on Saturday, and she was relieved to hear his voice.

"Good Morning, sweetheart," She said with a smile.

"Not exactly a good morning for me, but better now that I know I'll see you in a few days, pet." Richard answered calmly.

Suzanne tried not to roll her eyes at the added stress that he was no doubt going to pile on to her long and trying day. But she wanted to be a supportive wife so she indulged him.

"How is everything going with the Fischer Morrow Board?"

He let out a dramatic sigh, "Ridiculous. I swear that little shit Robert has lost his mind. He's actually hired a team of lawyers to help him sue for his share of the company, and then I hear that he intends to break the goddamn thing apart when he gets his hands on it. I honestly think he lost his mind somewhere between his father dying in Sydney and the funeral in Los Angeles. I mean I know Maurice was a bastard to have as a father, but come on now. The man needs to have a little dignity. He's about as cut out to be a CEO as I am to be a farmer."

Suzanne frowned at the unintended slight to her family. "Is this going to mean that you have to go back out to Sydney after Christmas?"

"That's what I was calling to tell you, pet. I have to stay here through the holiday. Though I was able to get a day or two off, I took the liberty of changing your ticket to meet me out here. I want you to leave tomorrow." Richard said pleasantly. "You don't have to worry about any work obligations; I've already spoken to Nigel."

Her blood pressure began to rise and she actually had to bite down on the side of her cheek. "Richard, I promised my Mother and Father that I would see them. We missed Thanksgiving _and_ Easter this year. I spent both of them abroad and I want to go home for a few days."

He was silent on the other end. "It's not the end of the world, Suzanne. You speak to the woman every week. I have us booked in with members of the Board to leave for Bora Bora on the 23nd and return on the 27th to Sydney. I expect to have my wife by my side."

"So you can get away with members of the Board, but you can't spend three days with my family in Boston?" Suzanne was starting to get irritated, letting her temper get the better of her.

"Suzanne. This is business. What am I going to do for three days in Boston in the middle of godforsaken _winter_? There's supposed to be a huge snowstorm, anyway!" He was starting to use the same snarking tone that he used with the lesser staff.

"I don't know, make love to me all day and try to have a baby!" She snapped before she even had time to censor her words. "I'd like to spend some alone time with my husband where we aren't parading around in front of people like damn puppets."

Richard was silent for a moment before he spoke. "I'm already committed."

Her hand balled into a fist and she took a deep breath, "I'm not. I'll be going home, Richard. I'm sorry. I'm leaving on the 23rd and I'll be home on the 26th."

"Fine, whatever you want." He ground out in a steely tone. "I'll find a suitable excuse for your absence. I'll speak to you later."

The phone cut out and she was left staring at her phone. He hung up on her. And he was _pissed_. This was already proving to be a wonderful week.

Suzanne rubbed her temples angrily and stalked out of her bathroom, throwing her phone in her purse and storming out the door. Vacation was not going to come soon enough, she just wanted to go home and see her family.

:o:o:o:o

The hour commute from Malibu was of course jam packed with traffic and thanks to the argument with her husband she was already running close to a half-hour behind schedule. She whipped her Mercedes into her reserved parking spot and jumped out as she tried to walk as fast as possible to the building.

Her phone rang just as she pushed through the main doors and waived to the building receptionist Claire. She fished it out and answered without even looking at the caller ID.

"My, my, are _you_ in trouble today." Nigel's amused tone filled her ear, "Naughty girl."

Suzanne laughed, "What are you talking about, I am forty-five minutes late and two days behind, I am having a great _bloody_ Monday."

He chuckled warmly, "Well your husband, and my employer, sent me your way to discuss holiday plans for coverage since you decided not to listen to him and forsake his company."

She snorted in amusement, "Did he actually use that phrase, never mind don't answer that. I am going to be in Boston the 23rd through the 26th, I have decent wifi at my parent's place. You want to split it up?"

Nigel laughed loudly, "You know what, after the morning that you had and the fact that I already moved my schedule around, if you do the 21st and 22nd I'll do the rest. Poor Bob will just have to deal with being single during the holiday season."

Suzanne smiled at the charming older man; he was literally the only thing other than Nita that kept her sane at work. "That sounds like a deal, tell Bob I owe him the next time I'm in London." She answered as the elevator doors opened and she took the practiced route to her office door. In fact she was so engrossed in her morning that she missed the sight of him until it was too late.

He was sitting at the spare desk to the right, and her eyes flitted up to quickly take him in. It all registered at once, the same as it had in the warehouse.

He was clean shaven, with a properly styled hairdo and a meticulously tailored dark grey suit. The navy shirt beneath it and the matching tie seemed to bring out a blue tint in his grey eyes that she'd never noticed before. He looked up to meet her with an interested stare, and all she could think was that he was _stunningly_ handsome. She couldn't help it as her eyes fell unconsciously down to his plump lips, seemingly flushed and soft looking, even from here.

And as she walked past the desk, the waft of his musky, warm scent hit her in the fact like a ton of bricks. Suzanne could feel her face flush and as if it was conditioned like a Pavlovian response to his smell, she could feel the crux of her thighs heat and dampen instantly with moisture- like she was hard-wired to mate with him or something ridiculous.

"Have I lost you, love?" Nigel's voice questioned in her ear and she quickly snapped out of it as she opened the door to her office and stepped inside.

"No, I'm sorry, just a little distracted. I hired an intern to help with Nita and I wasn't expecting to see him this early." She lied easily.

"Mhmm," He laughed, "Hiring a _male _intern, Ms. Jensen? I'll have to call Nita later and get the scoop on the stud."

"Ha ha," Suzanne scoffed. "I'm letting you go Mr. Roth, if I don't talk to you in person before then, Merry Christmas."

"Same to you Suzie," He responded. "Just remember oral sex in your office with an intern is frowned upon in your country."

"Goodbye, Nigel!" She laughed as she hung up.

Suzanne shook her head and dropped her pocketbook on her desk and tossed in her phone. Her back was turned to the door and she didn't hear it open, or the steps behind her. She jumped and then froze in place when an arm came around her to place a cardboard cup of coffee on her desk.

Her hands trembled as she felt his breath on her ear in a hot puff, and then his lips brushed against the shell as he spoke, "I was told to come in, introduce myself and bring you your morning coffee, Ms. _Jensen_."

She swallowed hard as her pulse raced out of control. She _refused _to turn around and look at him, right now. Between the argument with Richard this morning and the irritation left over from this weekend, she was completely ill prepared to deal with her emotions.

"Your Assistant informed me that you take it with skim milk only. But I think she's mistaken, it's cream and two sugars isn't it, darling? That's how you always took it when I brought it to you in the morning while you were naked in my bed."

Suzanne was practically shaking, but the reference to Paris gave her a small amount of strength. She turned around and stared at him, unable to breathe as he had almost pinned her against the desk. His mouth was right in front of her as she spoke in a stern but whispering tone, "That was a long time ago. I'm not that girl anymore."

He smiled that lazy grin that somehow managed to seduce and infuriate her in the same breath, "I can see that, love. So stern and commanding now, I'm eager to know if I am I dressed up to your standards, or if you want me to change."

"You are fine," She choked out, "Now get out of my office and get to work, Eames."

He stepped away with a laugh and a wink as he put his hands in his pockets, "It's Tom, love, Thomas Heathcliff, very nice to meet you."

Suzanne clenched her jaw furiously as he turned and walked out, hating herself for staring at the way his tailored pants hung of his perfectly muscled ass. So now she was trapped for the next month working with her very own Heathcliff fighting the urge to slap him in the face with one hand and haul him in for a kiss with the other.

Goddamn it, this was the worst fucking Monday in the world.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: Happy long weekend! And for that I give you a chapter where a whole bunch of stuff happens...ahem.**

**I am putting this out a little rough because I have been staring at it all day...so if anything needs to be fixed I'll get on it later...**

**Please, as always, read and review, loves! Thank you, thank you!**

* * *

_Los Angeles, California_

_2010_

* * *

"Yeah, see I got that the first time you asked me, mate. Problem is I'm staring at her calendar right now and she's scheduled all afternoon. I don't think she needs to be interrupted for a bit of coding work that you learned your first year of college." Eames grumbled into the phone with a sigh as the unnervingly high pitched and whiny voice of one of the software engineers.

He sat back in his chair with a huff as the man continued to insist that he needed to talk to Suzanne about an issue with the company's email server. "She's on the phone right now; I'm staring at her line as we speak and guess what, she's on it."

His eyes darted up and across the space to Nita who was shaking her head "no" with an alarming emphasis as she typed away at breakneck speed. Apparently this was exactly what she'd warned him about.

"How about this, yeah," He cut him off finally. "Why don't you do what you already started doing, and if Anni…Suzanne has an issue then it's on me. Yeah, right up on her floor, only male in the room it won't be hard to find me."

Eames hung up the phone and leaned back as he covered his face with his hands. He legitimately felt in the last five hours he'd managed to age five years. How people lived their lives in such a bloody monotonous rat race, he'd never even begin to understand. Give him a blood thirsty faceless corporation chasing him through the back alley of some Southeast Asian country with loaded weapons any day.

At least getting shot allows you to appreciate the ridiculous pain in the ass you have to endure.

"That was fun," He groused as he covered his face with his hands and leaned back in his chair, "I'd like to think the chap is playin' at it and that he isn't a total idiot."

Nita giggled pleasantly at his exasperated tone. "I told you, pains in her ass. Poor Suzanne deals day in and day out with it and still manages to keep composed."

"She seems to be an incredible woman," Eames said truthfully as he stared at his computer just as an email from Suzanne popped up. He wanted to see her again. It had been hours and he was still nursing a decent bit of wood in his pants. It normally would have been chalked up to downright pathetic behavior if it wasn't for the outfit she'd no doubt purposely worn today. The goddamn suit was practically painted on, and it showed off every curve of her slender frame.

It was the first time since he'd seen her again that he was actually grateful for the weight she'd lost; because if she still had the same fantastic round ass she had in Paris he would have had a heart attack already.

He opened the email sent from, _Jensen, Suzanne_, and barely contained a chuckle at the content.

_If you can manage, I need the attached memo reformatted and distributed to the London office before 12:30. _

_Thank you._

He smiled slowly at what was obviously intended to be a condescending message, and thought for a moment about a perfectly respectable reply- but his cheekier side got the better of him.

_Of course, darling, don't worry. Despite the overwhelming responsibility of managing your correspondence, I should be able to complete the assigned task in a satisfactory manner. _

_Cheers, love._

Eames waited for a minute or two and sure enough she responded.

_Please do not refer to me as 'darling' or 'love'. I can forward you the standards for appropriate language in company electronic correspondence if you feel that you are unable to understand the concept._

_Oh, and in reference to the memo, if it doesn't get done I'll just assume that it was too much for you to handle and you decided to disappear without a word. I am sure it will show up two years later, and the delay and subsequent discord caused will somehow be my fault._

_Thank you._

As he read her snarky reply he had to bite his lip in pure joy. The woman's intelligence alone had him salivating like an animal; there was nothing else like her in the world.

_I'm rather concerned about your approach to tolerance and diversity in regards to colloquialisms in my culture. I am now feeling as if it will be difficult to assimilate at this company if my ethnicity is coming under such scrutiny. My comments were in no way meant to be scandalous in nature._

_Now, if you'd like an inappropriate topic of conversation, I'd like to say that as you sauntered that delicious ass of yours past my desk this morning in that skin tight bit of fabric that you are calling a suit, I noticed that I can clearly see the outline of your lace garter straps running from your waist down across those luscious globes of flesh. Ever since then I've been hard as a rock wanting nothing more than to walk into your office, bend you over your desk, unhook your nylons with my teeth, and put my mouth on your honey sweet pussy until you come all over my face._

_As for the aforementioned memo and my inability to act like an adult, I am in complete agreement with your unflattering assessment._

_I shall endeavor to have that completed per your request in the next fifteen minutes._

_Cheers, love._

There was silence after that response. Eames was intrigued, either she was stewing, absolutely offended and furious, or she was sitting in her office with a flushed face and her legs crossed tightly, feeling the same unbearable arousal that he was.

But there wasn't time to worry about things; he had a job to do.

:o:o:o:o

"Tom?"

Nita's voice drew Eames out of his work and across the desk. He had just finished the memo that Suzanne had assigned and sent it out to the entire London Office on the email list.

"Yes, love?"

She smiled and blushed at the term of endearment and he realized ruefully that he really needed to be careful about the way he spoke around here. "Do you want to grab some lunch, I'm starving."

He shrugged as he felt his stomach rumble a little at the suggestion. He was hungry, and it was amusing that it had been years since he had to schedule a lunch break of any sort. "Sure, what did you have in mind?"

"There's an awesome Indian place like two blocks from here, do you like curry?" Nita asked.

"I'm British aren't I?" He answered with a smile, "Of course."

Nita stood up and poked her head into Suzanne's office as she let her know that they were both stepping out for a while and to ask if she wanted anything. She shook her head as she walked back to him, "I swear to God than man is going to be the death of her."

"Who's that?" Eames asked as he nonchalantly followed her towards the elevator.

"Her damn husband," She snapped angrily. "He treats her like an employee instead of a spouse. It makes me sick to my stomach that she takes that too, she deserves to be treated like a princess."

Eames nodded silently at her tirade and couldn't help but think that he could have been- should have been- the man that married her and took care of her. He unconsciously checked out for a moment and let himself see the two of them in the simple life that she had always wanted. He wondered, with almost painful sadness, if two years in they would have possibly had a child together or if they would have eventually gotten a chance to do any of the traveling that he wanted.

"Trouble in paradise?" He asked with a barely contained sarcastic smirk.

The two of them stepped out into the sunny street and Nita sighed. "To avoid getting into topics that are inappropriate for general conversation, let me just say that Richard Jensen may be a damn good business man, but he sucks as a husband."

Eames nodded and inwardly smiled at the woman's admission. Suzanne was miserable in her marriage, and with the way that she looked at him the other day in Vancouver and the tremble in her body this morning when he gave her the cup of coffee, it was pretty obvious that it wasn't going to take much to woo her attention back onto him.

He would have to be relentless.

:o:o:o:o

Sure enough, Nita took him two blocks over to Saffron, a fresh, fast food style Indian restaurant that had open air tables. He ordered a huge plate of chicken tikka masala served over basmati rice and Nita elected for the tofu variety instead. After grabbing an order of fresh garlic naan bread and a couple of iced chai teas they sat down at an empty table.

Eames dug in to the spicy dish and relaxed as he stared at the pretty woman across from him. She really was too wonderful to be single.

"So, Ms. Trivedi, tell me a little about you," He mused as he took a sip of tea, "This is delicious by the way, thank you for the suggestion."

"Oh, no problem," She answered. "There isn't much to say, my parents emigrated from India before I was born, and they saw fit that I be as educated as possible. I went to MIT, for organic chemistry believe it or not. But when the opportunity came to work for a woman like Suzanne, I didn't want to pass it up so I moved here to LA. Mom and Dad followed, much to my chagrin."

He paused mid-chew at the revelation as to what she was educated in. "You are a chemist?"

Nita nodded, "Yep."

This was just too perfect.

"Now you can feel free to slap me for the audacity, but are you seeing anyone?"

Her face flushed bright red and she stared down at her lunch, "No."

Eames realized that he should clear up the statement quickly and he smiled, "Not for me, love, I'm afraid my heart has been taken for some time now. But I have a wonderful friend who I think you would have a great deal in common with. He's a chemist as well, working at Cal-Tech at the moment; I met him some time ago when I was traveling for business."

"Oh, well someone that comes that highly recommended is worth the effort," Nita replied as she sipped her drink. "You should see if he is available for lunch one of these days."

He flipped out his phone and her brown eyes went wide as he dialed a number.

"Ah, hello, my friend, how is the chemistry world this fine afternoon?" Eames grinned at the furiously blushing Nita. "Just wanted to give you a quick call, mate, what are you doing tomorrow at lunch? I have a nice new acquaintance that I'd love you to meet. No, not work related at all I assure you. Very good! I'll see you then. Good bye."

He put his phone back in his pocket and took a huge mouthful of food, refusing to make eye contact with the eager woman until he had chewed and swallowed everything. "He's going to come by tomorrow at noon."

"I'll be sure I'm available," Nita smiled.

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne sat behind her desk with a furious look on her face. It had been two hours since he'd sent her that email, and she couldn't stop reading it over and over again. She was insulted by the crude language and the vulgar insinuation, and _that _was the reason that she hadn't deleted it yet. It certainly wasn't because she was so turned on by the prospect of him making good on his words that she was completely soaking wet between her legs.

She shifted in her chair and tried to squeeze her thighs together to relieve the building pressure as she angrily tapped her pen against her desk. He had the upper hand again, and even two years later he still knew everything about her and she knew absolutely nothing about him.

A light went on in her head and she turned towards her computer, she was a damn computer hacker and she never bothered to do any research on him at all. Well, in her defense, Paris had been such a whirlwind of passion and romance that she didn't have a thought to do it, and afterwards she had been so heartbroken and destroyed that she couldn't bring herself to even think about him.

But now she was sitting at her computer with nothing but time and a desire that for once and for all it was time to know the man that wouldn't stop haunting her.

The problem was she didn't know where to begin.

His accent, as she had come to learn from dealing with Nigel and the men in the London office, was strangely upper-crust. Nigel grew up in Kensington, and he sounded remarkably like Eames for the most part. So she logged on to her computer and into the private boarding schools in the UK that Jensen Holdings regularly gave scholarship money to. She knew that Eames was at most a year or two older than she was, so there was a decent place to start. She pulled up the admissions list from Nigel's alma mater the Harrow School on the outskirts of London.

It was a prestigious institution that was founded in 1572 by Queen Elizabeth the First and it was there in the roll call for the class of 1993 that she saw his name.

Edward Charles Eames. (Graduated Highest Honors, accepted to Oxford University)

A smile stretched across her face as she looked through the pictures from the graduating class and there was no mistaking him. He was so much thinner at eighteen than he was now, but his lips were what gave him away, still as full and beautiful. He looked like a damn model. But the tie and starched sport coat that he was wearing in the small black and white photo was such a contrast to the man that she knew. Suzanne shifted in her chair and leaned forward to try to look at his face more clearly, and she was taken aback by the look on his face. He seemed to be both blank and angry at the same time. There was a fire in his grey eyes that she'd come to love, but there was something off about him that she couldn't place.

So, it would seem that Eames, for all his condescension towards a normal life, was a silver spoon trust fund baby who went to a prestigious prep-school, and then later to the oldest and most exclusive University in the English-speaking world.

Well it certainly changed her opinion about things. He was no different than Richard. A man who took what he wanted with little regard for anyone else's thoughts on the matter.

Suzanne jumped over to Oxford's roll call list for the next years and sure enough he attended the school and graduated four years later with a Master's Degree in Philosophy and Classic literature, again with First Honors and a nearly flawless GPA.

There was a small write up about him in the graduate yearbook that he had been offered a commission in the British Royal Marines.

She was so immersed in her work that she missed the moment that her office door opened and Nita appeared with a takeout container and a bottle of water.

"I brought you some lunch."

Suzanne jumped up at the sound of her voice and clicked off the screen that she was on.

"Thanks," She answered, "What did you get?"

"I took Tom to that Indian place down the street," She was grinning like a fool and suddenly a flare of jealousy that she couldn't control raced through Suzanne's body at the thought that he had spent time with her like he had done with that disgusting woman in Vancouver.

"Oh," Was all she said out loud.

"He has a friend that is supposed to be meeting us tomorrow. I don't want to get all bent out of sorts, but what's the chance that anyone that man talks to is less than handsome."

Suzanne frowned at her optimistic foolishness, "Well I hope that you are careful with who you spend your time with. You don't know this guy from a hole in the wall, he just started this morning."

It was Nita's turn to get a little miffed. She crossed her arms and stared at her boss, "Says the woman who hired him without an interview."

Suzanne raised a flawless eyebrow at her employee's insinuating comment. "I hired him because his resume is flawless; it had nothing at all to do with anything else. I really don't appreciate having my judgment questioned."

Nita sighed and nodded. "I'm sorry, Suzanne. I'll let you get back to work."

She left her office after putting her lunch down on her desk. Even before the woman left the room Suzanne already regretted the way that she talked to her and the attitude that she had copped. Nita had done nothing at all but bring her lunch and try to tell her about her day. There was no reason at all that she needed to let the stress of her argument with her husband and the uncontrollable thoughts and feelings that Eames was stirring up in her needed to be taken out on an innocent person. It wasn't fair.

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne worked the rest of the afternoon without coming out of her office.

Around six-thirty she received a bounce back email of the memo that Eames had sent out earlier for her. She read and scrutinized it looking for something that she could find wrong, but try as she might the document was absolutely flawless in its contents. It was articulate, to the point, and well drafted. _Damn it_.

Perfect, just like the way his ass looked this morning.

It was that thought that let her know that her day was over. She was not going to sit behind her desk and fantasize about him.

Suzanne logged off of her computer and grabbed her purse, walking out of her office and staring at the two vacant desks. She wasn't sure when the two of them had knocked off for the night. But knowing Nita it hadn't been all that long ago. She walked out of the building and fished out the keys to her car, looking up and freezing the moment that she noticed him leaning up against it with his arms crossed and a satisfied smirk on his handsome face.

"What do you want?" She snapped angrily.

Eames shrugged casually, "Wondering if you could give me a ride home. Unfortunately I am without a way to get there at the moment."

Suzanne bit her red lip angrily as she unlocked her car door with a huff, "The metro is running on schedule or you can call a cab."

He laughed at her petulance as he grabbed the door and held it open, "Or you could give me a ride, love, it's on the way out to Malibu."

"Why don't you call that blonde you were so goddamn cozy with this weekend, maybe she'll be up for giving you a _ride_?" Suzanne snapped at him, her green eyes blazing.

Her little tantrum was enough to make him smile, "Come now Annie that was nothing at all but a love sick boy being jealous. I think you and I both know that. She meant nothing to me, love."

Suzanne growled angrily, ignoring both his words and the pet name that twisted her gut and made her heart race, "Fine. Get in the fucking car, Eames."

He walked around and slid into the passenger's seat, as he flung his briefcase in the back of the coupe with a smile. She regretted the invitation the moment that he closed the door. In the small enclosed space of the car the smell of his cologne was amplified, and it began to play with her already heated body. She hated to admit it but she was going to have to do something to relieve the tension when she got home, and there was going to be no doubt that the man next to her was going to play a starring role in whatever fantasy she cooked up. That alone was frustrating enough to want to slap him.

She pulled out of the garage and onto the street and into the congested traffic of Los Angeles at rush hour. "So where are we going?" She asked absently.

"West Washington Boulevard, just outside Culver City," He answered as he stared over at her, his grey eyes fixing on the way that her skirt was wrapped tightly around her thighs. "Is it safe to disclose my home address to you, Ms. Jensen? I don't want you to haunt my door. Because if you come around and knock, I'll definitely let you in, and I can't be expected to behave myself regardless of your marital status."

Suzanne rolled her eyes, "If you are under the delusion that anything like that is remotely possible, I'd recommend checking your totem. Because you are dreaming, Mr. Eames if you ever think that I'd be at _your_ door."

He chuckled and stared out the window as they drove.

After more than forty-five minutes and two accidents, Suzanne pulled off the highway and rolled down the side streets of Culver City passed two of the movie studios before going into a more plain and residential section of town. She stopped at a red light and looked to her left out of instinct. Her heart seized in her chest as she noticed the man in the car next to her. It was George Lanowy, one of Richard's hundreds of professional acquaintances. She had attended a party at his house in Calabasas this summer. There was no way that he was going to see her car and not recognize her, and here she was driving with a man that wasn't her husband.

She normally would have realized that there were a number of reasons that a man could have been in her vehicle that would have been completely sedate and innocent, but all of that went out of her head in a panic. Instead she reached across the car blindly to grab Eames' tie and pull his head down into her lap.

"Umm, what are you doing, love?" He asked with a laugh as he tried to sit back up.

Suzanne grabbed the back of his head and held it down against her thighs, "There is a man in the car next to us that knows my husband. Do not move."

Eames chuckled; the vibrations of his body raced into hers and brought it to life with a tingle. "Don't you think that it would be easier to explain me being in the vehicle as opposed to having my face in your lap? Not that I mind at all, I rather like it here." He punctuated the statement with a playful bite of her thigh and she had to keep from yelping out in surprise at his less than chivalrous behavior.

She tapped the steering wheel anxiously and avoided looking over to her left as the light turned green and she angrily pulled down the first street she could find and into an empty parking lot. She grabbed a handful of his gelled hair and practically wrenched him off of her lap as she growled furiously, "How _dare _you do that to me?!"

"Do what, love?" He smiled with an impish grin as he bit his lip. "You're lucky you are wearing a long skirt or I would have loved to nibble those creamy thighs of yours."

Suzanne's face went bright red at his comment, "Stop talking to me like that! You don't get to say those things anymore!"

"Why's that hmm?" He pressed as he leaned in to her face, letting his lips barely brush against hers, "Is it 'cause you still get hot and wet remembering what we are together, how good we are?

She was furious at his lewd words and the truth behind them. Without a thought she pushed against the hard wall of his chest to give herself space before she brought her hand up and slapped him hard across the cheek, "You selfish asshole!"

He clenched his jaw at the impact and turned to stare at her with dark lustful fire in his grey eyes, "Such fire. There you are, my beautiful, Annie. My God I've missed you." Suzanne went to hit him again at the way he was pushing her buttons, but he caught her wrist deftly and exerted more than a little pressure to get her attention. "I've had quite enough hitting, darling. Unless of course you want to take this back to my place between the sheets, and once I'm deep inside you I'll let you tie me up hit me all that you want."

Something in her snapped.

She didn't know if it was chalked up to the loneliness, the argument with her husband, or the undeniable fact that she couldn't control herself around this man. But instead of pulling away from him she reached across the small distance and grabbed the back of his neck hard, pulling his face to meet hers.

The instant his soft delectable lips were on hers again, a flood of emotions and memories assailed her body with an uncontrollable strength. Everything from two years ago became so very real, the pain, the joy, the pleasure, and the love. She went to pull away a moment later but he wouldn't let her. Eames' lips began to devour hers with a hungry growl. His hands coming up to cradle her face as he coaxed her mouth open so he could dive in deep, letting his tongue delve into her sweet mouth to savor the taste of the woman he missed so goddamn much he ached inside.

She whimpered as he pulled away to kiss her jaw and along her neck in more wet, needy mouthfuls. He went back to her mouth again and this time he cradled the back of her head with one hand as he reached over with the other hand to her waist to pull her across the car and onto his lap.

Suzanne froze when she felt him tug at her body. In an instant the arousal and fire instantly dissipated and she was left with a cold shock of reality. She couldn't do this. She was a married woman, and this man had already used her once for all that she could give. She stiffened in his arms and struggled fiercely until she was freed. She was left breathing like she'd run a marathon, and Eames looked worse than she did. His strong chest was panting and his normally intelligent eyes were dazed as if he'd been drugged. His lips were smeared with the red from her lipstick and she couldn't stop her eyes from looking down to see the massive proof of his arousal tenting his pants.

"Annie," He gasped as he reached out for her like a drunken man wanting another taste.

She pushed him away as the weight of what she'd done hit her hard. "Get out of my car." She whispered angrily.

"Love, please," Eames begged almost desperately.

"GET OUT!" She screamed as tears flooded her eyes.

He shook his head and did as she asked, and she drove off without looking back to see the look that was on his face. She made it all the way home before she pulled into the driveway and turned off the car. She couldn't control the way that her entire body shook and trembled at the memory of his lips on hers. She felt regret and her heart ached at the thought that what bothered her most wasn't the fact that she'd cheated on her husband, but that she'd stopped Eames from claiming her body again. The fact that even now as she tried to feel guilty all she could think of was that she couldn't wait to see him tomorrow and taste him again.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Going like CRAZY today! This chap is a bit back and forth, but a lot is getting ready to happen…so it was necessary…**

**Huge thanks to Miss Winter for some scandalous ideas for this little bit XD**

**As always, reviews are love! And I'm a lazy editor…so yeah I'll get on it if I see it.**

* * *

_Los Angeles, California_

_2010_

* * *

Eames walked for an hour before he was finally at his doorstep again. He'd wandered aimlessly since she kicked him out of her car, having to hit a local package store and grab a small bottle of Jameson just to get the ache in his chest to stop making him short of breath.

Kissing Suzanne again had felt like nothing he'd ever experienced before. It was like he'd found where he belonged, come home, he felt so complete having her in his arms; and to have her pull away was killing him. He took a long swig on the whiskey as he stumbled into his apartment, realizing with a laugh that he'd left his damn briefcase in her car.

He wiped his mouth to take care of an errant drop of liquor and caught sight of his reflection in the mirror, clenching his jaw hard at the sight of her blood red lipstick staining his face. Everything in him was screaming to go to her house and stand outside her bedroom window reciting every stupid love poem he knew until she let him inside. No matter how pathetic he felt, he loved that woman, and after she made the first move to touch him, he knew that she loved him too.

But there was the obvious problem that he'd managed to drink himself into a bit of a stupor and couldn't be trusted behind the wheel, though unfortunately it would seem that his cock was not quite on the schedule as the rest of him. Apparently Annie and her delicious red lips was the antidote for whiskey dick.

He stumbled through the small apartment and stripped off his clothes with a careless toss before he drained the half-pint of whiskey and flopped back on the bed completely naked. It was a little early to be passing out drunk, but he had to sleep it off and still manage to be up at the ass crack of dawn in the morning to go to his "job" and stare at his boss that he wanted nothing more than to fuck. Thank God it was going to be a short week. The last thought on his mind before he closed his eyes was that he really needed to book a flight to Boston soon.

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne toweled off, threw on her robe and poured herself a huge glass of pinot noir. She was still trying to get her head around what had happened. Not so much the fact that the man she couldn't imagine seeing again even a week ago, had come storming back into her life; but the fact that when push came to shove she'd been the one to kiss him. Granted he'd worked her up all day to the point of madness, but that still didn't explain away the fact that she'd let him do it. And it certainly didn't explain away the fact that right now she wanted to drive back to that parking lot and find wherever the fuck he lived and bust down the door.

She should be furious at him. She _was_ furious, but his words echoed in her ears and they absolutely spoke the truth. She did remember how absolutely incredible they were together. But it was instantly tempered with the fact that she was sitting in her husband's house with his million dollar ring on her finger.

No matter what had happened with her and Richard that morning, they were still married. She'd made a vow to be faithful to him, and she couldn't go back on that.

But could she really deny her heart?

Deep down, she knew that Eames…Edward…was it for her. She loved him with everything that she was, but she was just left with the realization that love, as wonderful as it was, may not be enough.

She walked into her bedroom and grabbed her laptop as she made her way to the bed. Despite her exhaustion and the stress from the day, she was still consumed with curiosity in regards to his past. The things she'd found today seemed like just the tip of the iceberg. It didn't fit for a prep-school trust fund baby to be jetting around the world and involved with the shady world of corporate espionage and dream sharing as in depth as he was.

Granted, she wasn't foolish enough to think that Richard's hands were clean, after all the more that she learned about his dealings with Fisher Morrow and Cobol Engineering, she was quite sure that he had more than a few skeletons in his closet. But he wasn't doing it with his own two hands.

Not like Eames had been doing for at least the past two years, and judging by his expertise when Dom brought him in on the job in Paris, he'd been at it for a while then too.

She sat down on the fluffy soft down comforter on her bed and put her computer in front of her as she took a long sip of her wine and smirked at the fact that it had been at least four days since she'd been to her trainer to work out. If she didn't watch out she was going to have a charming little bit of extra flab after the holiday.

It didn't take that long before she was logged onto Oxford University's alumni server and was looking at the academic transcripts of one Eames, E.C. He was impressive on paper that was for sure. He was even selected to sit for the ridiculously prestigious Examination Fellowship for All Souls College, which after she read up and learned, was said to be the "hardest exam in the world". But then he declined the invitation in favor of signing with the Royal Marines.

Suzanne couldn't help but blush like a foolish school girl at the sight of him in his formal Oxford Robes. He still hadn't filled out by 22, and there was an odd sense of a lanky almost boyish quality about him. But he had already grown into his trademark shit-eating grin, and it made her smile to see it.

Thankfully there was also a link to his military records. Apparently Oxford kept a close watch on its students after graduation. But there was something odd about it. It gave his officer's rank, Major, and his years of service, 1997-2004, but he was listed as SAS, and there was nothing else.

She knew a little about the military, her cousin had been in the US Marine Corps, but nothing really about the British Units. So thanks to Google she was blown away to realize that he'd been Special Forces.

So, a man who couldn't bother to have a matching suit from this decade and wore the most horrific polyester shirts known to man had graduated at the top of his class from Oxford University and was in one of the most elite military units in the world?

It made absolutely no sense whatsoever. Those people were generally Type A personalities that were, well for lack of a better comparison, like Arthur.

Suddenly the thought of Eames in a military uniform was something that was too delicious _not_ to see. But she didn't exactly have either the time or the access to find it. So she fired off an email to the Human Resources division of the London Office that she needed to have access to the e-verify program for new hires, specifically that she was looking for classified British military records because this new person would have access to confidential company financial information.

She stared at the email request for a few minutes and took a deep breath. She was actively going to let this interfere with her professional life.

Ruefully she touched her lips that were still tingling from his kiss earlier, it was painfully obvious that he'd already interfered with her personal life, so what the hell was the difference.

She clicked send.

The only thing that she could say about her clandestine activities was that it did manage to calm down the raging emotions that had been racing through her when she arrived home. Suzanne drained the rest of her wine and yawned sleepily. She turned off her laptop and tucked herself into bed.

It was only a couple days left before the holiday, and it was going to be a well deserved break to see her parents again. It would be a time to find herself and center her mind; she just hoped she could make it that long before she lost her head completely.

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne was at work early the next morning.

She stepped off the elevator in another of her DKNY suits; this one was a little more conservative than the last one. It was an olive green wrap jacket that was pared with a wide black belt to emphasize her tiny waist and a knee length pencil skirt with a small kick pleat in the back. She'd opted for black thigh highs today, and for some reason, perhaps the holiday; she had a holly red set of lingerie on underneath it.

Her borderline too-tall five inch Louboutin stilettos clacked across the marble floor as she made her way to her office. She made sure to stop first and look around before she let down the cargo that she was mortified to discover in her backseat this morning. Eames had left his briefcase after she'd summarily kicked him out of the car.

She placed it neatly by his chair, just out of sight so that anyone that walked in wouldn't see it before she walked into her office and closed the door behind her.

Today was going to be a better day. She was going to be strong and she was going to be able to deal with him- because she was a damn professional.

:o:o:o:o

Eames' head was only slightly fuzzy as he walked up the stairs into the foyer of Jensen Holdings. He was surprised to see Nita waiting for him with a hot latte and a smile on her pretty face.

"Good Morning, Tom." She said as she held the elevator for him, dressed in a very flattering red knee length dress and a white blazer that set off the golden color of her skin.

"Morning, love," He mumbled with a half smile as he rubbed his chin, hoping the fact that he had a day's worth of stubble wasn't going to give Suzanne license to scream at him. But if it got him called into her office behind closed doors, it might be worth the headache.

He didn't purposely intend to skip shaving, but he slept late thanks to the Jameson he'd mainlined and he tried to take a cold shower to soothe the still rock hard erection that he woke up with. The poor thing was _aching_ and he was half concerned that he was going to cause some permanent damage if he didn't get rid of it soon. Thankfully after an ice cold bath it managed to calm down enough for him to get dressed and look presentable.

Though he wasn't exactly sure about the lavender and white striped shirt and dark tan suit that Arthur had told him looked good. But he figured if that stick-in-the-mud knew anything it was what to buy at Brooks Brothers.

"Looking forward to lunch?" He mused with a sly smile as the woman next to him blushed furiously.

"I think so." She added unnecessarily. "Should I be?"

"Absolutely," He answered as the elevator door opened and they both walked out onto the floor.

Eames pulled out his desk chair and grinned as he looked down to see his brief case resting against it. She was already here. Oh, Annie, what was it like to stare at that this morning. She definitely couldn't pretend that nothing had happened between them; after all the evidence was right in front of her eyes just staring her in the face.

He sat down and logged onto his computer. There was already twenty different e-mails waiting for him, but one was out of the ordinary. He was copied on it along with Nita from a Nigel Roth in the London Office. It was in regards to integrating the Fischer Morrow email server in with Jensen Holdings.

Well this was interesting.

He discretely picked up his phone and dialed one of two disposable cell phone numbers that Arthur regularly used to keep correspondence under wraps.

The point man answered in less than three rings, "Good morning, Mr. _Heathcliff_."

"Morning, darling," He spoke quietly as he tried to keep his voice down. He glanced up quickly to see Nita picking up her own line to answer and incoming call. "You know that thing we've been working on?"

"Yes," Arthur answered vaguely.

"Well I have a feeling that the person that we are looking for is the same one we're looking _at _if you get my drift."

There was a pause on the line before he continued. "Jensen is the new CEO?"

"I'm guessing by the things I'm seeing," Eames finished as he read over other correspondence related to merging the IT department, "Which is fascinating by the way. I just knew all those years ago that I wanted to sit behind a desk for a living, thank you for bringing that dream to life."

"Anytime, Eames," Arthur chuckled. "I'll brief Cobb about this. Talk to you later."

"Yeah bye, now."

He hung up and sat back in his chair as he stared at the computer screen. Well Saito was going to have the answer that he wanted. The question remained, after he knew that it was Richard Jensen that was going to be his competitor, what was he going to want done about it.

Any further thought on the matter was immediately derailed when Suzanne's office door opened and she came sauntering out in another outfit that was seemingly designed to torture him within an inch of his sanity. To make matters worse her hair was loose today, flowing down past her shoulders in a soft, ebony cascade that was just calling out for a fist to grab it.

She smiled warmly at Nita and mouthed something before she dropped off a couple of folders. He could see the entirety of her spine stiffen as she turned to face him.

The look on her face was supposed to be cold and calculating, but he didn't miss the way that her green eyes gave him the once over, staring at his body and his mouth, dare he say even a momentary glance in his lap before she spoke.

"I have an important contract that will be coming in via Fed-Ex this morning around noon. I want it hand delivered to my office the moment he walks into the door."

Her voice gave her away instantly. He could hear her trembling and like clockwork it incensed him again. His blood was red hot and he wanted her _now_. He didn't give a shit how or when it happened, but if he went the day and didn't put his mouth on her, he'd lose his mind.

"Absolutely, love, I'll keep my eyes open." He couldn't stop the husky purr in his voice, and the way he unconsciously licked his lips as his mouth watered.

Her eyes went wide at the display and she turned on her heel and immediately stalked back into her office without another word.

:o:o:o:o

After working with Suzanne Jensen for the better part of eight months, Nita wanted to think that she knew her boss pretty well. She could normally read her rather calm moods like an open book, but in the past day she had seen a side of the practical and even-keeled woman that she couldn't explain.

And it definitely had something to do with the man who was sitting right across from her.

Now, she wasn't an idiot. Richard Jensen had been gone for almost two months, so the poor thing had to be lonely, not to mention the fact that he wasn't exactly affectionate when he was here, and Thomas Heathcliff was probably the best looking man that she had _ever_ seen in her entire life.

So she was obviously feeling some sort of temptation. Not that she blamed her. The man's accent alone was enough to make a woman's insides turn to quivering Jell-O, and that did nothing to help with the amazing way his suits hung off his obviously built body…and those _lips_.

"_Like Angelina Jolie aspires some day to have lips like he does…"_

Nita suddenly froze mid-staple as she was collating paperwork to look across the aisle at him. She analyzed him from the desk and thanks to her good memory mentally ran down the checklist that Suzanne had rattled off: Not too tall- check, muscles for days- check, tan-check, tattooed- unknown, orgasm inducing British accent- double check, grey eyes- check. Nita blushed when she realized Suzanne had also informed her that the man was hung like a horse and a demon in the sack. It was something that most people weren't privy to in a co-worker.

And then there was the line yesterday at lunch that he'd said…that his heart had already been taken for some time.

Did Suzanne actually hire her ex-_lover_? What in God's name would possess her to do something like that?

It wasn't like she'd made it sound like they were on good terms with one another after the break-up, and since he'd started she'd been nothing but cold to him.

Nita tapped her pen on her desk and looked up to catch Tom's storm grey eyes as he talked another one of the software engineers off a ledge as he let a toothpick roll around his mouth in a lazy circle. He playfully rolled his eyes and she smiled at his friendliness. He'd been nothing but charming and polite to her since they'd met, not to mention the fact that he was great at his job…well if Suzanne was somehow wanting this man to relieve a little overdue stress while her negligent ass of a husband paraded all over the world who was she to judge.

:o:o:o:o

The phone rang a little before eleven and Eames answered it with a smile, "Good Morning, Jensen Holdings, Suzanne Jensen's office, this is Tom speaking, how may I help you."

"Well, well, you must be the stud newbie Suzie's hired."

Eames smiled reflexively at the sound of a familiar London accent. "That would be me."

A warm chuckle filled the receiver and the man's smile was audible, "Kensington or Chelsea?"

"Surrey actually," Eames replied on practiced reflex. "_You _are Kensington though, Mr. Roth, am I right?"

"I am, cheeky thing, and though it seems I need no introduction, Nigel Roth, VP of Information Technology."

"Thomas Heathcliff, unimportant intern," Eames added unnecessarily as he sat back in his chair, "Very nice to make your acquaintance."

"Heathcliff?" Nigel asked with a hint of amusement, "Now that is funny. Tell Ms. Jensen thank you for the prompt attention on the memo yesterday, it saved me a ton of unnecessary headaches. Then of course Richard managed to give me a whole new set this morning with the Fischer Morrow email. Anyhow, Heathcliff my lad, can you tell Suzie I am taking off for the night to have a little evening with the gentleman friend. If she needs me before she leaves for her holiday have her call my cell. Have a good Christmas."

"Sounds wonderful," Eames answered. "Enjoy sir. Happy Christmas to you as well."

He hung up the phone and noticed that Suzanne's phone line was free. He buzzed her without a second thought.

"Yes." She answered in a curt tone.

"Mmm, love just ringing you to let you know that dear Nigel is heading out for the evening to fancy London town with his gent friend, if you need him call his cell." Eames let his voice rumble out, just loving the way her breathy reply managed to come right through the receiver and grab him by the cock.

"Thank you."

Suzanne hung up and he waited for another moment before a sly grin cracked across his face and he buzzed her again.

"_Yes_."

Oh she was getting seriously irritated, and it was just too much fun to stop.

"Darling, I was curious, did you get coffee this morning?"

"No." She snapped impatiently. "I'm not in the mood for coffee, _Eames_."

He looked over at Nita who was busy on the phone, so he turned his body to shield his face from her and dropped his voice down to a husky whisper. "Can I get you anything else nice and warm to swallow, then?" The dial tone of her phone was the answer that he received. Eames bit his lip in excitement and couldn't help the way he had to adjust himself before he called her back, he knew his voice always used to get her off, and the thought that under the right circumstances he could work her right up at her desk was enough to peak his interest.

"I am _not_ talking to you." Suzanne whispered angrily.

"But, love; I just have one rather large issue that I need your immediate assistance with."

"What." She was getting livid and it was heating him up like a blast furnace.

"I think I need to contact Human Resources. Those skin tight suits of yours have me so fucking hard every minute of every day I'm unable to do my work." Eames groaned lowly with a growl. "I can't help it, right now; all I can think of is you on that mahogany desk of yours with your gorgeous legs wrapped around me while I go wild. You are making me fucking insane, love. I tasted your sweetness again, and I'm hopelessly addicted."

She didn't hang up and his heart began to race, suddenly as Eames opened his mouth to go in for the kill her outside line rang. Good, let her pre-heat for a moment, "You have a call, let me get that for you." He smiled against the receiver.

"Suzanne Jensen's office," He breathed into the phone as he cleared his throat trying to calm down and control his voice.

"I have a feeling there is more to your phone greeting than that, have you not been properly trained?" A cold, snarky voice snapped at him.

"Good Morning, Jensen Holdings, Suzanne Jensen's office, this is Tom speaking, how may I help you." Eames ground out as his jaw clenched angrily. There was only one asshole wanker this was.

"Much better, _Tom_, now, this is Richard Jensen, is my _wife_ available?" The condescension in his voice was enough to make him want to reach through the phone and break his goddamn jaw.

He cleared his throat nonchalantly, "She's _just_ about to finish something, let me place you on hold for a moment."

"Still there, Annie?" Eames purred and he was amazed when he could hear her breathing hard on the other side. "Mmm, do you want to touch yourself? No one has to know. You can just finish up right here. One little flick on that soaking wet clit and you'll burst."

She gasped gently and with the hitch in her voice he knew that she was so close, but still fighting to keep from losing her shit on the phone with him, with her teetering on the edge he prepared to flip back to Dickie-boy. "Oh, almost forgot, there's a chap on the line, love." He heard her squeak in surprise as he clicked over.

"Sorry about that."

"What the hell is the hold up?!" Richard barked. "I have a meeting in five minutes, what _is_ she doing!"

"Sorry again, old boy, she had a bit of business to wrap up with herself before she was free. Here she is."

Eames transferred the call and stared at Suzanne's line. She was going to be _furious_ when she got off the phone. She was going to be furious and still horny as fuck, it was the perfect time to walk into her office and finally have her guard down right where he wanted her to be.

"Tom?" Nita's voice called from across the aisle. "What time are we going to lunch?"

He pulled up his sleeve and checked his watch, it was already almost noon. The Fed-Ex delivery was late. It was the perfect excuse. He got up and jotted down Yusuf's name and number on a post-it pad before walking over to her desk. "Why don't you give him a call and head out now, he was going to meet me in the lobby at noon. I want to wait until Suzanne's delivery shows before I head out."

Nita blushed and nodded as she pulled out her purse and checked her makeup in her mirror. Eames smiled with a saucy wink as she got up to leave. "Be gentle with the man, Ms. Trivedi, he's a good soul." She smiled a dazzling smile and walked out the door with an extra bounce in her step

Eames watched as she stepped in the elevator and the doors shut. He stood up and sauntered back to his desk, as if preparing for an interview he brushed off his coat sleeves and tucked in his shirt. He waited until the light on her phone went out a minute later before he straightened his tie and let a predatory grin slide across his full lips as he walked towards her office. It was time for him and Ms. Jensen to have a little talk, and this time she wasn't going to be able to drive away and leave him behind.


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Whew, this just flew out this afternoon…literally. Sorry about that little cliffhanger, hope this makes up for it ; ).**

**As always, I am so very spoiled with the love that this story has gotten. I am just so flattered. That being said, please keep it comin'!**

**Fair warning that this one isn't very work safe…you'd think someone would have told Suzanne and Eames that…**

* * *

_Los Angeles, California_

_2010_

* * *

Suzanne's head was buried in paperwork at her desk as she rifled through months of contract correspondence when her email alert went off with a light chime. She looked up to see that it was the request that she'd made last night for access to the British Military's record archives under the auspice of employee verification.

She didn't have his National Insurance Number, which would have made it easier, but she did have his full name. She typed it in along with the years of service and immediately after hitting 'enter' she was looking at his name and a link.

Her green eyes flitted up to the closed door of her office almost paranoid that someone was going to know what she was doing. She shook it off in the next instant and chewed her lip anxiously as she clicked on it. In a mere moment she felt her heart race and her pulse pound. There he was. A 25-year-old Eames who had been recruited into the Special Air Service from the Royal Marines and exhibited exemplary scores in the recruitment tests.

He was every woman's wet dream in a camouflage uniform and a beige beret.

Suzanne crossed her legs out of reflex as she read the small blurb that was available. Even with the employment software she was still blocked from a majority of his records, they were listed as _Classified_. What she was able to see was that his specialist training was focused in signals and communication, and that he was stationed with the Mountain Troop.

The last past had her eyebrow quirked, what was a man that was trained in Arctic combat doing living in Africa?

But no matter how much she tried to focus on the words, her eyes kept going back to look at his picture. His storm grey eyes were clear and focused; his square jaw was clean shaven, and his lips were just…_God_…so _fucking_ delicious.

What was she _doing_ to herself?

She covered her face with her hands as her mind instantly went back to the kiss last night. The way he tasted her with such command and ravenous desire, she literally felt powerless against him, and it was so incredibly arousing. There was not a doubt in her mind that if he would have succeeded in pulling her over on top of his lap she would have ended up screwing him like a horny teenager in the front seat of her Mercedes.

She drew a sharp breath through her nose as her insides clenched and dampness leaked out to warm her thighs, he could do this to her with just the memory of him. She was so sex starved, despite the frequent solo work, she was a walking ball of hormones and all it took was the slightest whiff of his cologne or the way he licked his lips to get her barreling towards orgasm.

It would take nothing at all.

The phone suddenly buzzed from the front office and she noticed that it was _his_ extension. Speak of the devil and he calls. She took a deep breath and set her jaw to sound as cold and curt as she possibly could.

"_Yes."_

:o:o:o:o

Nita was a self confident woman. She was well educated, intelligent and poised…and at the moment she bore absolutely no resemblance to any of those traits. She was standing in the lobby ungracefully chewing on one of her fingernails. It was the shrill voice of her mother in her ear that reminded her that she was never going to impress a man eating her hands like a horse that finally made her stop what she was doing.

Her foot tapped impatiently as she stared at her watch. How was she supposed to know what Tom's friend Yusuf looked like anyhow? Her eye suddenly caught a man as he made his way up the stairs in a comfortable looking tan suit. He was Indian, she could tell that much from his features, mid-thirties, he was a good six inches taller than she was and he definitely had nice broad shoulders, a well groomed bit of facial hair, and a mop of silky looking black curls on his head. She brushed an invisible bit of lint from her dress and straightened up as he walked towards her. Please let this be him.

"Hello?" She spoke up nervously as he walked by. "Are you Tom's friend Yusuf?"

He stopped and a puzzled look floated through his dark brown eyes, before a warm smile spread across his face. "_Tom_, yes, I am."

"I'm Suzanne's Assistant, Nita, we work together. Tom and I, in the same office," She felt like an idiot and she could feel her cheeks getting warm. So much for a 3.98GPA from MIT, she couldn't even manage a simple conversation. Yusuf, thank goodness, didn't seem to have the same issue. He extended his hand and took hers in a gentle shake.

"Very nice to meet you, Nita, is Tom around? We were supposed to take lunch together."

She stared back at the elevator and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "I actually have no idea. He was waiting for something important that Suzanne needed hand delivered. I am not sure how long he's going to be."

Yusuf seemed to think for a moment before looking at her again, "Well, perhaps you and I could have a meal. After all, I am here, and you are here, what other excuse do we need for such a harmonious moment?"

Nita laughed at his humor and obvious intelligence. She could see how a man like him would get along so well with someone as outgoing as Tom. "Well if you want serendipity, here we are two individuals of Indian descent and there is a delicious organic restaurant called the 'Blue Cow' two blocks away. How do you feel about that?"

He looked genuinely amused, "I feel like that is a wonderful idea, let's go." In a grand gesture of chivalry left over from some silver screen Hollywood movie from the '20's he made a sweeping gesture for the door and held it open for her to walk out.

As she stepped out the door into the sunny California afternoon she sincerely hoped that whatever was keeping Tom from making their little lunch meeting kept him just a little bit longer.

:o:o:o:o

_"Still there, Annie?" Eames purred and he was amazed when he could hear her breathing hard on the other side. "Mmm, do you want to touch yourself? No one has to know. You can just finish up right here. One little flick on that soaking wet clit and you'll burst."_

Suzanne gasped as his honey smooth purr brought her right to the edge. She was red hot between her legs and her entire body was shaking with arousal. She was so close.

Suddenly his voice was back, this time filled with a hint of naughty amusement. _"Oh, almost forgot, there's a chap on the line, love."_

Her heart seized in shock as the phone clicked and a second later the receiver was filled with the cool and calm tone of her _husband's_ voice.

"Hello, Suzanne."

She was having trouble breathing. Here she was on the edge of an amazing climax from her ex-lover's voice alone, panties clinging to her body with the proof of how bad she wanted him, and now she had to face the man she was betraying with every second that passed.

"Good afternoon, Richard." She finally managed with a breathless tone. He had to know…

"You sound like you are running a marathon. What is going on?" Richard asked with what sounded to be an irritated sigh. As if he was simply going through the polite motion of asking her what was going on as opposed to any actual desire to hear what she had to say.

Suzanne cleared her throat, "I was just running to catch the Fed-Ex courier; he has the most recent firewall contract from McAfee and I wanted to make sure it was handled before I leave tomorrow afternoon."

"I see. So you are still insistent about going to Boston?" He said. "Can't convince you that your husband needs to see your flawless body stretched out on the warm sand?"

She tried to smile, tried to use the lust that hummed through her veins like a molten wave to channel some sort of feeling towards him. But nothing happened. "Mmm, you could always come home and we could enjoy a nice night by a fireplace. I don't ask for much, Richard. I really think this is important for us."

There was a long pause on his end of the phone. "We've been through this, Suzanne. I am busy right now, and you are asking me to jeopardize a massive deal for a few days with your parents. I can't do it."

"Fine, I understand." She answered as she could already feel the aggravation rising up in her gut to mingle with the adrenaline in her system. It was a potent combination that was about to explode.

"I'll be sending your gifts; I'd like a call when you receive them." He said before his voice trailed off and Suzanne could tell that he was talking to someone else. "I have to go. I am late for a meeting thanks to that English idiot that you have answering the phone. He had the audacity to keep me on the phone for almost five minutes. I do hope he's a _temp_."

She clenched her hand into a fist; Eames knew that her husband was on the line. He worked her up to prove that he still had control of her like a goddamn puppet. And here she was like a bitch in heat begging for him.

"Yes, it's temporary." It was all she could manage.

"Whatever you say, look I have to get going. I'm leaving tonight for Bora Bora and I won't be able to talk to you for a couple days. Be a good girl 'till then and Merry Christmas, my beautiful pet." Richard said in his most charming voice.

"Merry Christmas, honey," She answered as the phone went dead.

He didn't say "I love you". It should have bothered her. It_ would_ have if it wasn't for the raging fury that was rising up to stain her chest, neck and face bright red.

Her head snapped up as the door to her office opened and Eames himself came sauntering in. He turned to shut the door behind him and she was already out of her chair and storming around her desk as pure anger surged through her.

She pointed right at him as her lips pulled into a vicious snarl, "You son of a bitch, that was my hus-"

She didn't get to finish.

Eames turned from the door and stared at her with a hard gaze filled with a primitive animal lust. He took two steps towards her, completely ignoring her little outburst and grabbing the back of her neck with his large, rough hand before he crashed his mouth to hers in a searing kiss.

All of the air went out of Suzanne's lungs in a surprised gasp as he wound his fingers into her hair and grasped it with a tight fist. The minute that her mouth opened with surprise his tongue was there, thrusting in with a powerful, greedy plunge that spoke of the insane passion they both felt the night before.

It wasn't a kiss it was a declaration of ownership- an alpha male staking his claim over an alpha female after too long an absence.

She tried to regain control as he frazzled brain fired a cocktail of pleasure chemicals that short circuited any rational thought. In a haze of passion she felt him push the warm, solid wall of his chest against her small frame and begin to physically back her up towards her desk.

His other hand reached around to grab a palm full of her backside and push it forward into a hard grind against the front of him as he went even deeper with the kiss. A low, growl rumbled through his chest and Suzanne trembled helplessly in his arms, she felt him, _all_ of him- hard, thick and straining for _her_.

How long had she craved it? How many nights had she tried, with no avail, to use any product sold on the market to mimic the sensations that the span of his flesh could evoke in her body?

His lips pulled away from hers and immediately the hand in her hair tugged her head back so he could feast on her neck, using his tongue, lips and teeth to mark every inch of the pale skin. Suzanne's eyes rolled back in her head and she whimpered as the feelings coursing through her body overwhelmed her.

Suddenly she felt the hard edge of her desk against the back of her thighs and she snapped out of the drugged haze just as the hand on her ass reached down to grab her leg. He effortlessly picked her up and sat her on the wooden surface.

It all became alarmingly clear what was going to happen. He was going have her…here, and now.

It couldn't happen.

Suzanne tried to push against him as his mouth moved back to hers, but he wasn't having it. She'd gotten her reprieve yesterday when she kicked him out of the car. The way both his hands moved to roughly part her thighs so he could stand between her legs, told her that he wouldn't be deterred by any argument she could muster.

Because they both knew that any words she could say to tell him she didn't want this with every last fiber of her being would be a lie.

His scorching hot palms ran up her legs, pulling the skin tight skirt up to pool around her waist. It left her totally exposed and she whimpered at the feeling. Here she was, finally with her expensive lingerie on display to a man that was threatening to devour her.

She tried desperately one last time to close her legs to preserve her modesty, her marital vows, but he grabbed her tightly and pulled her legs apart as his fingers stroked the length of her lace covered, dripping center with a hard roll.

Eames released her lips and put his mouth right above hers; she opened her dazed eyes to see him staring at her, absolutely wild with lust. "Don't play with me, love." His voice was feral in its intensity, "Don't tell me you don't want this, you are fucking _soaked_, and it is because of _me_- because you want _me_."

Suzanne tried to say he was wrong, to get away, but her body and the absolute need that screamed from every pore left her unable to speak. He paused for only a second before her lack of reply had him reaching out to grab the flimsy scrap of red lace that covered her and tearing it away with a loud rip.

Two hundred dollars fell to the floor of her office in shreds and she closed her eyes with a sob of guilt and desire as the last thing that her mind recognized was the fact that he was falling to his knees in front of her...like Cupid ready to bring his love back from the dead with a kiss.

:o:o:o:o

Eames was a man possessed. It was as if the intelligent, civilized part of his brain was held completely hostage by some sort of savage beast. The moment he heard her husband's voice on the phone he knew that the time had come.

And somehow, even though his cock was screaming and threatening to tear through his pants, all he wanted to do was to taste her first.

He couldn't even properly appreciate the fact that she was flawless underneath her clothes. Maintained meticulously, the woman must have a fucking artist see to her pussy. But it was _beautiful_, pink and swollen, glistening with her arousal. He couldn't stop the purely male impulse to breathe in the musky smell and it almost rolled his eyes back in his head at the wonderful sensation of it all.

It had been so long.

Eames gripped her slender thighs, letting his fingers toy with the elastic straps of her garter belt as he leaned his head in to drag his tongue across her already primed little pearl.

It was instantaneous. He was amazed as Suzanne's hand flew up to her mouth and the other reached down to claw one of his as her whole body stiffened. In utter shock he pulled his mouth away to watch her most sensitive flesh quiver and throb with visible strength. Evidence of a glorious climax that had her chest heaving- Eames for the first time in his life was speechless.

He'd made her come- hard- and he wanted it again, he wanted to feel it.

Remembering everything from their time together in Paris, he didn't let her aftershocks finish before he was at her again, taking her sweet dripping flesh into his mouth with an eager kiss. _Godddamn_ she was delicious. He knew he sounded like an animal, groaning and growling as he licked her, teasing the little hidden treasure at the top of her sex with his teeth and loving the way she had to suppress the need to scream her pleasure out.

He pulled away just enough to let two of his fingers trace the beautiful petals before he dipped them deep inside her hot little body. She was still as tight as he remembered, and he bit his lip as he began to pump his hand in and out, stroking the little spongy piece deep inside that pulled her little moans out louder.

Her sweet sounds of need almost brought tears to his eyes. It was like hearing a long forgotten song that still held his heart. In the end it was something as simple as her breathless whimpers that cut through the animal and found the man. He put his mouth on her and redoubled his efforts to please her.

He could feel it building higher and higher. Her legs were shaking and her insides began to tighten on his fingers like a vice. Suddenly it was there- she literally burst in his mouth with a gush of saccharine nectar and he greedily moved to drink up all of it. Not stopping until every last drop of honey was gone.

Eames finally pulled away and looked up at Suzanne. The feelings overwhelming him as he saw the skin of her face and neck stained bright red with blush, and her eyes were clamped shut as tears streamed down her beautiful cheeks.

She was _alive _again. Psyche, in all her glory, brought back to him.

Need surged through him again as he stood up and gently removed her hand from her mouth so he had access to her lips again. He kissed her softly, trying to calm her panic, but it would seem that she was as far gone as he was. She pulled away from his mouth as her hands shot down to his belt and frantically tore at it as she tried to pull it off.

Eames was more than an eager participant as he deftly unhooked the leather and unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Her green eyes were on fire when she looked up to meet his. She wanted this. In the same instant her hands pushed his pants to the ground and reached underneath his shirt to touch him.

It was like an electric shock coursed through him as her delicate fingers circled his rock hard flesh. A groan of pure desire rushed out of him at the contact. Two fucking years of repressed sexual urges screamed at him, swelling his skin to the limit. He felt literally as hard as steel and as she swiped her finger across the seeping tip of him he jerked back away from her. He was so sensitive he was going to explode. He couldn't wait any longer.

In the future, looking back on the moment, he would have loved to say something, or prepare her gently. But he didn't. With nothing more than a grunt he lined up to her wet entrance and slammed his entire length in to her core with a vicious push.

His eyes slid closed and his head bowed in a lust-fueled show of veneration. He felt like he'd come home.

Suzanne's body protested the roughness with a whimper, going rigid instantly as he practically impaled her. Eames tried to steady himself as he gave her a moment to adjust…but the primitive urge to move was too overwhelming. He reached down to grab her hips tight enough to mark, before he slid out and rammed back in, hitting her to the limit.

She had to reach up to grab his neck for support while the other hand fisted in the front of his shirt to pull him close, as he began to work her hard. Each thrust rubbing against every inch her overly sensitive body…and it wasn't long before it started again.

Everything coiled tight and twisted up. Her inner walls began to tense and shift as wetness flooded out again, making his harsh movements audible in the room. She was biting her lip to silence her screams as her entire body wound up and then she was there. Her legs squeezed his waist tightly as her third climax barreled into her.

She was coming, over and over; the force of it alone milked him with so much power that he couldn't stop himself. His hands gripped her hard enough that there would be bruises in her soft, pale flesh when it was done, before he buried himself as far as he could in her body and let it all go.

Two years of loneliness and regret flowed from him in an orgasmic purge as his seed streamed out and into her snug depths in a long spurt.

Eames was completely gob-smacked and unable to think straight as he let his hands come up to wrap around her and hold her close. He buried his nose in her hair and took a deep breath as his mouth responded to the simple, basest animal thoughts that were in his come-drained mind.

_Soft, sweet, woman_.

"Only you," He whispered against her hair. "You're _mine_."

Suzanne snapped out of her lust induced drunkenness at his words. He told her that he "owned" her. He wasn't even trying to apologize for tearing out her heart. Suddenly as the softening flesh of his spent manhood slipped out from between her legs and a trickle of sticky warmth followed, she felt her stomach churn.

He'd used her again.

She loved him and he _fucked_ her. Plain and simple, he used her before, and now he was ready to use her again. There was no doubt that whenever the job was done with Cobb, he'd pick up again and walk out of her life. And she'd be left with the pieces of her heart in shreds just like her destroyed underwear at his feet.

Her body stiffened as she pushed him away. "Get out of my office," She spoke in a quiet but firm tone.

Eames was genuinely confused. His grey eyes darted back and forth across her face as he stared at her incredulously. "What are you saying, love?"

Suzanne pushed him away hard as she managed to simultaneously slide off the desk and stand on shaking legs. She righted her skirt and for the first time ever cursed her favorite sky-high red-soled shoes. She stepped away as he turned to look at her with his pants still around his ankles.

"I'm saying get out of my office, _Eames_. We're done here." She snapped coldly squaring her shoulders and holding her head high.

His confusion gave a way to anger as he picked up his trousers and buckled his belt. "_Done_, hmm? That what this was, love?" He walked over to her and brought his face to within an inch of hers before he growled, "You need a real man to fuck you, so you hop on my cock and come real good. And now, what, you're gonna go back to Dickie-boy like a fucking ice princess in your lonely palace?"

"Don't you dare talk about him!" Suzanne hissed.

"Why, you love him, Annie?" Eames pressed viciously. "Tell me he makes you feel like I can, tell me he makes you happy!"

Her face was bright red with fury as her eyes flooded with anguished tears and she shouted, paying no attention to the fact that someone could hear her.

"He doesn't make me CRY!"

Eames froze and stepped back from her as if her words had been a slap across his face. He had nothing to come back to her with. She was right. Without another word he turned and left her office, shutting the door behind him.

The moment she was alone Suzanne broke down; tears streamed down her face as she ran to her desk, pulling out cleaning wipes to sanitize the surface. Her hands were shaking furiously as she wiped it down and threw the evidence of their love-making and _her_ infidelity away.

She looked down at the floor and picked up her ruined underwear, balling it up and moving to her desk so she could tuck it into the bottom of her purse. Her chest ached with a maelstrom of emotions, anger, pain, and above it all was undeniable love.

She needed to get away from him. She felt like she was drowning and she needed to breathe.

She wiped her eyes with a tissue and logged onto her computer, cringing at his image as she closed out the program and got on the website for her flight. She was scheduled for a flight tomorrow afternoon at one. In a few clicks and more money than she'd like to think about on her black Amex card, she was scheduled for the last first class seat on a non-stop flight out of LAX at five later in the evening.

Methodically she fired off an email to Nigel telling him that she was leaving early to go to her parent's for the holiday and that she would be unavailable for eight hours, but would have computer access tomorrow as planned. With a deep breath she logged off and locked up her desk, throwing her purse over her shoulder she tried to hold her head up as she walked out.

Eames was gone, but his briefcase was still there and as she left she wondered if he'd come back. She tried to convince herself that she didn't care and it didn't matter, as she picked up her phone and called Nita, feeling awful that she was interrupting her lunch.

But she couldn't think straight, she felt helpless and lost… she just needed to go home.

She needed to run far away from the realization that everything had just changed.


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: Weekend present! This is a long one, and it kind of needed to be. So we have a lot of reflection in this one…both Annie and Eames have a lot goin' on upstairs after the extra-curricular activities in the office.**

**So even though it isn't super action packed, I hope you all enjoy anyhow. Reviews are love, and man I love you all! Mwah XD.**

**Throwing this out a little rough…but I gotta do it!**

* * *

_Los Angeles California_

_2010_

* * *

Nita smiled and laughed for the seemingly hundredth time in the last hour since she sat down with Tom's friend Yusuf for lunch. It was no doubt the best conversation that she had the pleasure of enjoying in a very, very long time. He was insightful, articulate, intelligent, and the way his passion for chemistry and science came out in his face made her find him undeniably attractive.

They had been discussing the genius of Adolph von Baeyer and his invention of synthetic indigo dye in 1869. It basically saved the entire textile industry and paved the way for modern chemists to totally synthesize complex molecules for everything from manufacturing silicon computer parts to pharmaceuticals.

Her phone rang and she excused herself with a polite smile as she looked down and noticed that it was Suzanne's personal cell number. "Hello?"

"Hey, Nita, I'm so sorry to interrupt your lunch."

Nita frowned at the tone of her boss' voice. She sounded like she'd been crying. The frown instantly deepened, her damn husband must have upset her again. "It's no bother; I'm actually running over, so I should be getting back." She said honestly as she excused herself wordlessly to get a small bit of privacy.

"Actually, take your time. I'm, um, leaving early to go home. I'm on the five o'clock flight tonight. I need you to work until regular time tonight, but you can feel free to knock off tomorrow at noon."

"You're leaving today?" She asked. "Do you need me to do anything?"

"No, I'll still be watching the emails and such remotely so we are all set, I'll have my phone too if you need me. If I don't talk to you before then, have a very Merry Christmas and I'll see you on the 27th, alright?"

"Did you get a chance to tell Tom?"

"Oh, Tom, no, he's not here. I think he went to lunch. You can tell him the same thing I guess." She said- her voice was strange at the mention of his name.

"Alright then," Nita replied. "Have a really nice Christmas, Suzanne. Tell your Mom I said hello."

"I will hon. Have a good afternoon."

:o:o:o:o

Eames stood at the sink in the executive bathroom just down the hall from Suzanne's office door. His hands were still shaking and he finally had to splash cold water on his face just to try to snap himself out of whatever stupor he was in. He felt like he'd lost his mind. For two years he'd been unable to find satisfaction in his life, both physically and mentally- and he'd had them both the moment he buried himself into Suzanne's glorious warmth.

Making love to her had always been incredible, but _this_, to have her again when he thought it impossible…it was like a drink of crystal clear water to a man that had been wandering in the desert for years and dying of thirst. He felt renewed; every cell in his body was reinvigorated and restored.

And perhaps the most miraculous part of it all was the way that she reached for him when the time came. To know that she was with him in that moment, feeling the same insatiable need and desire for the only other person that made them complete, it stirred him to his very soul. In that same realization was the words she'd screamed at him.

"_He doesn't make me CRY!"_

Suddenly it all seemed clear. She married Richard _because_ of him. He broke her heart and in her grief she settled for someone who would keep her safe and would never, ever challenge her need for passion. She walled herself up behind that icy façade so she would never again feel the pain that he put her through.

"God-fucking-damn-it," His voice was trembling as bad as his body and he could feel the sting of tears as they pricked at the corners of his eyes. He was pathetic. She didn't deserve this.

The sound of a voice calling out into the office pulled him out of his whining. He wiped his face with a paper towel and walked out to see a FedEx courier standing in the middle of his and Nita's desk with a large envelope in his hand. "I have a delivery for Suzanne Jensen." He announced as Eames walked over.

He checked his watch, it was almost one, "A little late there, mate? You were supposed to be here at noon." His voice was still strained with emotion and he had to cough to clear out the tension.

"Sorry, there was an accident on the 410; I was in gridlock for like an hour." The young, twenty-something explained as he handed over the electronic signature pad, "Damn LA traffic; and you know I got 700 packages going to Malibu 'cause rich kids need their Christmas presents, man."

Eames chuckled, "Yeah, so very true, innit."

The kid took back the pad. "You're new here, huh?"

He nodded and the courier leaned in as he grinned and licked his lips, "So I don't gotta tell you I run this route every day I can for a reason. That woman is _so_ fine; I swear I'd walk across the country if that sweet ass was in front of me. You know she's got all the hottest shit under that suit too. I bet she's an animal."

Eames quirked up his brow and the kid looked embarrassed for a minute before he humored him, "Mmm, can't say I disagree with you. Though personally I'd prefer her with another twenty pounds, I imagine _that_ ass would be spectacular in a tight suit."

He laughed as he turned to leave, "Hell yeah. Have a good day man. Stare at that shit for me today, alright?"

"Sure, mate." Unfortunately he did a bit more than stare at it, and now he was fiending like a bloody addict.

The kid left and Eames took a good look at the envelope in his hand. It was her firewall contract for the entire company. He'd heard that much when he eavesdropped on her conversation with Dickie-boy earlier. He walked back to his desk and put the envelope down. He sat in his chair and leaned back as he rested his elbows and tented his hands. His mind was working in the practiced and strategic mindset that had been drilled into him years ago.

What Cobb needed was in that folder. He could wait until she opened it this afternoon and then somehow scan it and get it over to Arthur.

"Hey, _you_ missed you at lunch."

Nita almost floated to her desk with a smile on her pretty face. It was actually enough to make him snap out of it and ignore his own current self-pity issues to feel a sense of happiness that he hadn't felt in a very long time. Something that came from knowing that someone he loved was getting something wonderful they deserved. He couldn't recall the last time it happened…perhaps Suzanne hosting a dinner party in his flat in Paris.

"I was waiting for a tardy courier," He replied, unable to control either the wink or the sly smile that spread across his face. "However I see that you attended lunch, and judging by your infectious smile I'd say you enjoyed yourself, love."

She bit her lip to try to hide her smile, "I had a wonderful time. I have never met a man who let me droll on for twenty minutes about total synthesis of synthetic indigo dye and not stare at my cleavage. He was actually paying attention to me, and he was so very insightful and inspiring."

"You're blushing, darling," Eames needled with a laugh, unable to suppress his own smile. "So, when will you see one another again?"

"He's coming to my place for dinner." She squeaked as she covered her face. "It's too soon to have him at my place, right? I mean I know he's your friend, but you should wait for that…right?"

His chest ached as he thought of Suzanne-he'd seduced her two days after he met her with the thought that he'd fuck a pretty girl on vacation, and it had never been the same for him. He'd fallen hopelessly in love.

"There are some things in life that defy our plans," He answered quietly. "Don't spend your time listening to the thoughts in your head; there are so many whispers from voices that are afraid and that are better left ignored. Listen to your heart, love, it doesn't know any better." Nita froze and stared at him with a strange look on her face, Eames cleared his throat trying to be nonchalant as he forced a joking smile. "Sorry there, I was trying to imitate the wisdom of my dear friend for you. I guess I failed."

"No," She said shaking her head and he saw tears in her brown eyes. "She left to go home. Tonight on a five o'clock flight out of LAX. I know he hurt her again, and I know she still loves you. I don't care what happened between you two, but she is miserable. Please, go."

The statement hit him and he paused. She knew about him? She couldn't know who he _actually_ was…but Suzanne _had _talked about him, at least in the general sense, and Nita must have made the connection. She really was Yusuf in a female's beautiful form.

Eames swallowed hard as he stared at the envelope on his desk. He could bring it to her…at home…and she'd open it…giving him the perfect opportunity to get the information to Cobb and Arthur. And then he'd be done with the job. There would only be him and Annie- he'd beg her forgiveness and she'd take him back.

She had to.

Nita was already on the computer, and she shouted across the aisle. "You have to move Tom; every flight out of LAX to Boston is sold out today, tomorrow and Christmas Eve. Get to the airport and figure this shit out."

He stood up and grabbed his briefcase stuffing in the envelope before he walked over to Nita and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Happy Christmas, darling, be good to him, yeah?"

"I will," She blushed, "Merry Christmas, Tom."

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne walked through the airport with her suitcase and her carry on rolling behind her. She felt like she was incognito. She was wearing a pair of faded jeans, a fitted plain white v-neck t-shirt and her favorite pair of buttery soft brown cowboy boots that she always wore to ride. Gone was the dramatic make up, and in its place was a little eyeliner, mascara and light pink lip gloss. Her long black hair was pulled up into a simple pony tail.

It was a look that Suzanne Jensen wouldn't be caught dead in but Suzanne Williams was right at home.

In fact, in her entire suitcase she had nothing that was even remotely dressy; just a simple black skirt and green cashmere sweater that she would wear at the house for Christmas dinner.

She felt lighter in some respects, and in others she felt more conflicted than ever. As she stood in the obnoxiously long security line after checking her suitcase, her mind began to wander. She was running away from her feelings. Was it really any different than Eames had done in Paris?

She was scared of what he made her feel, and what it meant to her carefully regimented life. Not to mention her marriage. She was condemning him for the same thing she was doing now, as if turnabout was somehow fair play.

Suzanne threw her stuff into the bins and walked through the metal screener, smiling politely at the attendants as she put her shoes back down and walked down the terminal to her waiting flight. She couldn't help but laugh when she recognized a song that was pleasantly playing over the airport's speakers, Augustana's _Boston_.

The words for the most part certainly fit her mood. She shook her head and laughed as the moment felt like a cliché scene from a chick flick. The only thing that was missing was the love of her life running down the concourse just as she was going to board the plane with some sort of grand poetic speech about how much he needed her and that he couldn't live without her.

But as she walked on the plane with the rest of the first class passengers, Edward was nowhere to be found.

:o:o:o:o

Eames stood at the US Airways counter with a scowl on his red face as he stared at the young bleach-blonde woman behind the desk. He'd tried every airline- this was his last chance.

"So you are saying that there is _nothing_ available on a flight going to Boston tonight? Not even coach?"

"No," She sighed as her fingers clacked keys at a speed that seemed superhuman. "All full on the 5:30 and the 9:45 as well."

He rubbed his face angrily, "Alright, what about New York? JFK, La Guardia, Newark, hell darling, at this point I'll fly into Philadelphia."

"Umm, nope, nope, nope and the Philly flight is on standby."

"Alright," He took a deep breath, deciding to turn on that instant charm in his voice that always got him whatever he wanted. "What can you get me, love, I need to get out tonight and get to Boston as soon as possible. My fiancé is waiting for me and I really want to surprise her, we've been apart for two years thanks to my awful work schedule, and if I don't kiss her on Christmas I'm going to die."

The girl sighed dreamily as he smiled and bit his lip, "I have one spot in first class on the 11:15 PM flight to Chicago O'Hare."

"I'll take it." He answered as he slipped out his well-used passport and one of a thousand credit cards he'd acquired. "You have no idea what this means."

"But that's a fourteen hour drive to Boston." Eames shrugged and she sighed again. "That is _so_ romantic. I hope she knows how lucky she is."

"I don't quite know if I'd call her the lucky one of the two of us, love." He grabbed his reservation and stared up at the clock. He had seven hours until his flight…it was going to be a long night.

:o:o:o:o

It was almost midnight when Suzanne landed at Logan Airport. She'd already put on her warm, wool-knitted sweater on during the flight, but as she stepped off the plane and onto the connecting ramp she could feel the almost unearthly frigid air of a New England winter. She was more than a little glad for the fluffy down feather North Face jacket that was tucked up over her arm. But despite the shivers it sent up her spine, a feeling of warmth was there too. She was _home_.

The airport was almost completely deserted, and it didn't take her very long to grab her large suitcase and make her way to the rental car window. She yawned sleepily and stared at the clock, as the alarmingly stoned looking young man processed her credit card and handed her keys to a black Volvo XC90. He mumbled something that could have been, "Merry Christmas", but she wasn't sure. She wasn't particularly interested in finding out either.

Suzanne threw on her puffy coat and fished the leather gloves out of the pocket, putting them on with the crochet black beret that her Memere had made for her the before she passed away. She'd actually made it right after Suzanne had come home following Mal's funeral. She told her that it was for her to wear when she went back to Paris again. At the time she'd thought that the older woman had a touch of dementia, not remembering that she told her that she wasn't going back. But a thought dawned on her as she opened up the hatchback of the rental, she was perfectly lucid. She wanted her to go back because she wanted her to go on with her life. Because even though she was devastated by Mal's tragic death and Eames leaving her, she needed to square up her shoulders and hold her head up like every generation of woman that had come before her.

The world is a tough place, and you have to be tougher.

But she wasn't. She took the easy way out. She quit her dream job to work a pathetic one that was miles beneath her…and instead of standing on her own two feet like she'd been taught to do all her life, she let a man take care of her. She married a man that she didn't even love. Tears began to cloud her eyes and the freezing cold air made them burn. Suzanne suddenly was very glad that her Mem wasn't around to see her now. She'd be disappointed. She sniffled as she climbed into the driver's seat and started the hour drive home.

:o:o:o:o

Somewhere between the Ted Williams Tunnel and the Newton Tolls on the Mass Pike it started snowing, _hard_. Suzanne took a deep breath and concentrated hard. Unfortunately a side effect of reengaging her brain was the memories, the entire day weighed down on her like a ton of bricks. She'd had sex with him this afternoon. Correction, he'd put his mouth on her, worked his magic, and then made mind-numbingly insane love to her. He played her body effortlessly, the way a prodigal Mozart must have played piano. She came more times in an hour than she had in months.

And despite the way she'd run…she was still thinking about him. Even after the hot shower she took when she got home to wash herself clean, thinking she was dirty for betraying her marriage, didn't stop her skin from glowing when she looked in the mirror. Her cheeks were blushed a permanent rose from emotion and her eyes sparkled with fire.

The Volvo's traction control suddenly kicked on and Suzanne felt the car slide. An icy chill danced up her spine, but years of driving in the ice and snow kicked in and she quickly got the car under control. She exhaled slowly as she finally saw the exit for 495 Northbound, she was almost home.

Suzanne's heart began to pound as twenty minutes later she turned onto the winding Mile Hill Road that her parent's farm was on. She hadn't been this excited to come home since she was leaving for Christmas Break after her first semester in college. The car's high-beams lit up the flag-stone wall that lined the property, and as she pulled into the driveway and the newly renovated grey colonial and the matching two story barn came into view, she couldn't stop her chest from tightening.

Suzanne parked next to her Dad's red F-150 pickup and she jumped out of the car. She couldn't stop herself from jogging up to the door, as the sound of barking filled her ears; it was her parent's chocolate labs, Floyd and Stella. The tears started on their own, and when her father opened the door in his hunter-green plaid L.L Bean robe with his almost completely gray dark hair sticking straight up and his brown eyes wide with shock that she completely lost it, breaking into hysterics as she ran to hug him.

"Daddy," She cried as he held her tight.

"Suzanne," He whispered as he hugged her back. "Honey, what are you doing here? I thought we were picking you up tomorrow night?"

"I missed you and Mom," She managed to say as her Dad's strong embrace made her feel safe again.

"Allan?"

It was her Mother. She came down the stairs a moment later, her snow white bob still managing to be fashionable with her black Fendi cat-eye glasses and her matching robe at one-thirty in the morning. She ran across the foyer and threw her arms around her daughter the moment she saw her.

"My baby," She whispered as she kissed her hair. "I love you."

Suzanne hugged her mother tight as the tell tale clomping sound of dog feet came rushing down the carpeted stairs and then nails were clicking against the hardwood as the two brown oafs barreled into her legs with wagging tails and tongues.

She was_ home_.

:o:o:o:o

It was four in the afternoon before Suzanne got out of bed.

She stared at her iPhone by her pillow and smiled. Nita had sent her an email first thing, (Pacific Time) that she was not to do work today because she was on vacation with her family and she needed to enjoy it. That girl needed a damn raise when she got back. She stretched lazily and smushed her face into her fluffy down comforter and the blue and white checked flannel sheets before she stood up and looked out the window. It was already getting dark. She'd wasted an entire day. She couldn't even remember the last time she did that…_Paris, two years ago_.

Suzanne groaned as she stared at the snowy field. She couldn't even stop thinking about him for five goddamn minutes. Thank God she was going to have a five day reprieve from having to see him again. She might actually manage semi-sanity by the time the holiday was over.

Her eyes wandered around her room to notice that nothing had changed. It was still exactly the same as the day she'd left to go to college. She had a queen sized bed, a desk that was in front of the window that faced the main pasture, a white vanity and mirror, a matching bureau and an old wardrobe. The walls were lined with bookshelves and all of them were full; paperbacks and hardcover books that spanned her entire education. A telescope was in the far corner and above that a collection of figure skating and horseback riding trophies, ribbons and medals.

She smiled at a picture on her desk of her and Mal the day they moved into their Paris flat in Montmartre after summer break their last year before graduation. They were both looking out the window down at the street and making silly faces. Dom had taken it.

She picked up the wire frame and sighed. She needed to talk to Dom about what happened. She'd never given him an opportunity to explain himself and what had happened. Even thought it felt like a betrayal to Mal's memory, she knew that her friend loved him more deeply than anything in the world, and if she were alive she'd want her to listen. Suzanne replaced the picture and ran her hands through her long hair, after the long flight last night and sleeping all day she needed a shower something awful.

:o:o:o:o

Freshly showered and her hair dried, she opened her suitcase and grabbed her bag of toiletries before fishing out a knee-length olive cable-knit sweater and a pair of black leggings. She finished it off with an oversized pair of black wool socks from her old bureau. It was wonderful to throw her hair up in a messy bun and walk downstairs in clothes that let her breathe for once.

She walked into the great room where her father was sitting in his favorite easy chair with his laptop and an online version of the New York Times crossword. The hobby was a recent one that was picked up after he retired a year ago. He was a funny man. Only an inch or two taller than she was and built strong from years of working out in the field as a geologist and environmental engineer and in his spare time as a horse farmer, but he was also keenly intelligent. His hair had once been as black as hers, but the years had changed that, his dark brown eyes were still full of amusement and spark, though. He was wearing a pair of well-worn jeans and one of a thousand plaid flannel shirts he owned.

"Five letter word to describe the roundly tapered end of a two or three dimensional object." He asked out loud.

Suzanne thought for a moment and thanked her vast knowledge of architectural terminology, "Ogive."

"You got it, Banana." Her father smiled as she leaned over to give him a kiss. The pet name had been something he'd been calling her since she was a little girl. She roughly remembered him starting out with Suzanna-banana, but it had been shortened somewhere along the line, and somehow even though she was a 34-year-old married woman, he still insisted on using it. "Mom's in the kitchen."

She patted him on the shoulder and walked into the adjoining farmer's style kitchen to find her mother pounding out chicken breasts with a rolling pin in a stylish coral turtle-neck sweater, jeans and a pair of black Born clogs. She turned around with a smile and Suzanne smiled back. Her mother had always been the most beautiful woman in the world to her. She was small, only 5'3'', but she had an amazing figure even at sixty. Her hair had gone white in her mid-twenties, but she'd only decided to stop dying it five years ago. The perfectly coiffed bob made her look like Meryl Streep in 'The Devil Wears Prada', and with the trendy eye glasses she was wearing and every piece of matching accessories coordinating from her earrings to her necklace, bracelet and belt, it wasn't a far push.

Although it wasn't to say she was frou-frou, after all she lived on a farm and could ride a horse with the best of them. She just had 500 pairs of cowboy boots that she had to match to her outfit when she did it. She'd retired from a prestigious job as a tax accountant around the same time her father did. But because of her drive and constant need to do something she was still doing tax work for some of the local businesses.

"Sleep well honey? Do you want a glass of Pinot Grigio? I'm making that provolone and prosciutto stuffed chicken breast your father loves for dinner with some mushroom risotto."

Suzanne laughed as she gave her mom a kiss on the cheek and leaned on the granite counter next to her. "Wine? I just got up."

Her mother scrunched up her face, "Well, it's five past five, and that makes it time for wine and not time for coffee. Grab a glass."

Suzanne washed off a glass and reached for the already open bottle, pouring herself a glass and topping off her mother's. She took a long sip and sighed pleasantly, she'd been home for a little more than sixteen hours and she could already feel the stress melting away. She was staring at the liquid in her glass absently when her daze was interrupted.

"So, are we going to have Christmas dinner for four?"

It was a loaded question.

"Um, no," Suzanne sighed as she took another swig of wine. "Richard's in Bora Bora with the Board of Fischer…you know what, I don't want to talk about it. He's not coming."

"And why aren't you with him?" She asked as she washed her hands and took a sip from her own glass.

"Because I told him that I hadn't seen you and Daddy since last Christmas and that was unacceptable to me. That and I need a fucking vacation from those people. I can only fake a smile so long before my face starts to hurt."

"So," Her mother sighed. "I need to ask this. Are the two of you happy?"

Suzanne paused and then shrugged. "Lately I have no idea what makes me happy. I thought it was going to be the stability that Richard gave, but I can't deal with it lately. You know that he wants a baby, and he wants me to check my cycle so he can make sure that we are 'optimizing' our chances."

"What?" She scoffed. "You don't schedule sex, Suzanne. At least tell me it's _good_."

"It's good." She answered honestly as she stared at her glass.

And it was good. Perfectly adequate sex and she generally got off. Richard was decently sized and fit, so the stamina was fine, the problem was…_creativity_. The man had no imagination at all, and she'd been with a man who had an imagination.

After Eames, _good_ sex just wasn't good enough.

Her mother smiled, "But just not _as_ good as you've had before I take it."

She drained the rest of her glass and poured another one, "Something like that."

"Then you have an issue baby, life's too short not to have a man who makes you melt."

"I'm starting to think that," She grumbled.

"Now, take your father and me for instance," She said, as her eyes, the same green as her daughter's sparkled. "If I hadn't had that problem after you were born, we would have had at least another three kids. I mean nowadays we aren't like we used to be, but he still gets it in three or four times a week."

"Ugh!" Suzanne made a face and waved her hands at the mental image and her mother's use of the colloquialism, "Mother, NO."

"Sometimes I can even get two in a row if he can keep going."

"I'm leaving the room if you keep it up, I am getting nauseated."

Her mother's loud laughter filled her ears and Suzanne couldn't help but join in.

:o:o:o:o

The three of them had an amazing dinner and after it was cleared up they retired into the living room to watch a movie. It ended up being the extended version of _The Return of the King_ and even though Suzanne had a few glasses of wine humming in her blood stream she was still able to have an in depth discussion about the political state of Middle Earth with her father.

Four hours later they were all yawning from full bellies and wine calm. A knock on the door suddenly cut through the calm. The dogs jumped off the couch and raced with clacking nails to the front door. Suzanne stood up and her father was already walking towards the door. He opened it and a blast of cold air came rushing in. She strained around the corner to try to see who it was, shrugging when she caught her mother's confused look.

Her father leaned back around the door that was blocking the view, "Suz, it's for you."

She quirked her eyebrow in utter confusion, her alcohol buzzed mind was racing and her heart was pounding with nerves. Had her husband decided to surprise her after all? How was she going to look at him after what happened yesterday?

She took a deep breath and walked to the door. Instead of a pounding heartbeat, hers stopped when she saw who it was. Standing on her parent's porch at eleven at night, two days before Christmas, in 25 degree weather, looking absolutely exhausted with dark bags under blood-shot eyes, and wearing nothing more the same tan suit that he had on when she last saw him in her office yesterday, was Eames.


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: And the muse is out of control this weekend! I am proud to be able to give you guys this so quickly!**

**I love that everyone has commented they like Suzanne's parents…I think they defined her as a person, much as mine have done for me.**

**We are going to begin to see a new side of our favorite roguish thief, perhaps a look at the real man himself…I hope that you all enjoy. Of course, this is Eames, so, um…yeah not perfectly work-safe ; ).**

**Throwing this out to get it out, so I'll edit if necessary later…**

**As always my darlings read and please, please review!**

* * *

_Northborough, Massachusetts_

_2010_

* * *

Suzanne stared in absolute disbelief at Eames. He was here, at her _parent's_ house.

"What are you doing here?" She finally managed to ask, the few glasses of wine that were in her system bypassed her tact and a hint of indignation colored her words. Because even though this man was obviously run well past his limit, she was still furious with him for so much.

He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a FedEx Express envelope. "You left before this came in." His voice was low and she could hear the fatigue.

Suzanne reached out and took the package with a scoff, "So, what, you flew out here the next day to give it to me?"

Eames shook his head with a self-deprecating laugh. "No, love, I flew into bloody Chicago on the red-eye the night you left because everything else was booked, and I drove here."

"Oh," She breathed in genuine shock. It was at least a six hour flight from LAX to Chicago, and another fourteen to fifteen hour drive. Plus, with the weather that she'd run into at midnight coming home from the airport, it probably took him even longer than that. Suzanne seriously wondered if he'd managed any sleep at all. "You could have just shipped it here."

A smile tugged at his full lips and a spark of amusement sparkled in his tired grey eyes, "But you told me that I had to hand-deliver it to you. If I recall, you were very particular about that instruction."

"So you decided, out of all of the things I've told you recently _that_ was the one you were going to listen to?" Eames went to answer her when suddenly Suzanne felt her mother right behind her.

"Honey, who is this poor soul?" Her voice was filled with concern.

She breathed deep and remained in control, "It's my new intern, Tom. He apparently took my words to heart when I told him that I needed him to hand-deliver something. But he's going to find a hotel now."

"Suzanne Elizabeth! This man is barely standing and freezing, where are your damn manners." She pushed past her roughly to grab Eames by the hand and pull him into the house and shut the door. "Oh, my God, you are ice cold. Where is your coat?"

He was shivering hard and he laughed at his foolishness, he knew better than to do something so stupid. "I just left LA with the clothes on my back Ma'am. I'm afraid I didn't think it through. I just needed to get here."

His confession had Suzanne snapping up her head to look at him. She half wondered if the cold was getting to his head. His voice was earnest, and there was none of the smooth cocky tone that she was so used to hearing.

Her mother frowned and took his briefcase from him. "Well you aren't going anywhere until I say so. Right now you are going to take a hot shower and then you are going straight to bed to rest." Eames nodded obediently as she practically pulled him up the stairs.

Suzanne was left standing with her father feeling completely shell-shocked. He was in her parent's house and he was taking a shower and spending the night.

:o:o:o:o

Eames tried to keep up with the small woman in front of him but his legs felt like lead. She was dragging him down the hallway of, from what he could tell from the limited glances he could get in the low light, a gorgeously renovated farm house. She finally pulled open a door and flipped the light on, flooding the pristine white tiled room with light.

It was a small guest bathroom, with a large antique tub, toilet and sink. There was a cute white shelf piled high with fluffy white towels and the entire notion of such comfort almost made his knees buckle.

He was still trying to get feeling back in his arms when the woman turned to look at him with a smile on her face. Through his exhausted thoughts he could still see that this was where his Annie had gotten her beauty and her fire from…and they had the same green eyes.

"Make yourself comfortable, honey. Towels and washcloths are right there and everything you need is hanging from the shower-head. I'm gonna go grab you something warm to sleep in. The guest bedroom is on the right; I'll have the bed made up for you. Tomorrow you take as long as you like in bed."

He nodded as he pulled off his coat slowly, the task taking a Herculean effort. "Thank you so much, Pauline."

Her mother left the room without a word, and Eames froze at his mistake.

He'd called the woman by her first name and he was never supposed to have met her before five minutes ago. He really should have been more concerned, but as he turned on the water until it was steaming hot, stripped naked and kicked his clothes in the corner he really couldn't give a damn.

She'd always liked him anyhow; of course that was before he acted like a pathetic jackass and hurt her daughter. But all of that was forgotten as he stepped into the tub and ducked under the hot spray. A groan of pure pleasure slipped from his mouth and he sighed gratefully as he stood, quickly soaping up and letting the past day's grime wash from his body.

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne stood in the hallway as her mother loaded her up with flannel sheets for the guest bedroom. For the guest bedroom that was across the hall from _her_ bedroom…the guest bedroom that Eames was going to be sleeping in tonight. The same man that she couldn't trust herself to be around in a professional environment was now going to be under the same roof as she was. Her heart was already pounding with anxiety; she was not going to be able to do this.

She quickly made the bed and walked back into the hallway to meet her mother, who had fished out a spare pair of her father's flannel sleep pants, socks, a t-shirt and one of his many robes. She knocked on the door to the bathroom, "Honey, just stay in the shower, I'm putting clothes on the toilet seat for you. Good night and we'll see you tomorrow."

As her mother closed the door and turned back to her, Suzanne didn't miss a very knowing look on her face. "So that's your new intern?"

"Yes," She answered as she crossed her arms. "He just started a few days ago."

"Seems to be very devoted to you," she added as she kissed her cheek and walked downstairs. "It's rare to find someone like that these days."

"I know." Suzanne answered quietly.

:o:o:o:o

She wasn't quite sure why she waited for him to walk out of the bathroom, but five minutes after her mother left he walked slowly out of the bathroom with his clothes bundled in his arms. His red-rimmed eyes were already starting to close and she smiled at the way his wet hair was pasted to his forehead. "I wanted to make sure you were alright and show you to your room." She explained her presence calmly.

Suzanne was sure that he would have some sort of cheeky line or suggestive comment about her putting him in his room, but she was shocked when he only nodded slowly.

She led him into the room and he dumped his clothes in the corner before he shuffled to the bed and drew back the down comforter before crawling underneath it and sighing deeply as his head hit the pillow. "Can you grab my briefcase, love, it has my toiletry bag in it and I want to brush my teeth in the morning."

"Sure," She answered as his eyes closed and his breathing began to become deep and even.

"My beautiful… Annie…mmm kiss me g'night… I miss you...love."

His words were slurred with sleep and mumbled in a way that she couldn't tell if he was aware that he was saying anything. She waited another second to see if he was going to say anymore, and when he was silent she walked up to the bed. His whole face was completely relaxed and he had that boyish look that she'd always loved waking up to. Her body moved of its own volition and before she knew it she was leaning over him to place a very soft kiss on his plump lips, before she quickly turned and walked out of the room, not stopping until she was in her own with the door closed.

And locked.

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne woke up around noon. Apparently she was still enjoying the laziness that came with vacation. It took her a moment of sitting in her bed to remember that Eames had shown up on her door last night…and he'd gone to sleep in the guest room. She threw off the covers and padded across the empty hall way to open his door. She wondered if he'd taken off already, but when she popped her head in the room she could hear him lightly snoring. The guy was completely dead to the world.

Her logical mind reminded her that he'd been up for almost two days and that even if he was some sort of Special Forces soldier, exhaustion was the same for everybody.

She turned and made her way downstairs to see her parents sitting in the great-room. Actually her father was sitting in his chair, her mother was sitting across his lap as they laughed and kissed one another warmly. Suzanne smiled as she walked in wearing her favorite pair of candy-cane striped red and white flannel pajamas. "Your child is in the room," She joked covering her eyes.

"Go make yourself a coffee, child," Her mom laughed as she stood up and her father slapped her playfully on her jean clad bottom. "There are some left over blueberry muffins from this morning." Before she finished the comment Suzanne was already at the Keurig and brewing a cup of Nantucket Blend and nibbling on one of her Mother's huge homemade and insanely delicious muffins.

"So," She started as she walked into the kitchen, "Tom's sleeping like the dead. I've checked on him a few times and he hasn't even moved."

"Must have been tired," Suzanne said as she added cream and sugar to her coffee without even thinking about her diet. Quite frankly dinner last night, the wine and the muffin already were blowing it anyhow.

"I'm gonna have Daddy make a chicken soup for dinner tonight, when he wakes up I'm sure he'll be starving."

"Well, I mean I don't know how long he's going to say," Suzanne answered. "I was planning on making him a reservation today to go back to LA."

Her mom frowned angrily, "And let me guess, his family is all in England and he's single."

"Yeah," She said sipping her coffee. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Her eyes narrowed behind her glasses skeptically. "Honestly? Because he's all alone on Christmas, and I planned a dinner for four; so instead of shipping him back I want to ask him to stay for a couple days so he can have a good holiday."

"Mom, I'm sure he's fine. Besides, he's got nothing to wear."

"Actually I have a few outfits that I bought Uncle Keith for Christmas and we aren't seeing them until next week. He looked like he was the same size." She said with a smile. "L.L. Bean too."

Suzanne sighed; she really didn't want him to be alone either for the holiday. No one deserved that. But now that left her spending possibly the single most romantic time of the year with a man that she had to lock her bedroom door to prevent herself from crawling in bed with him.

A voice that had to be some sort of delusion whispered to her that it also meant the prospect of absolutely amazing sex in her childhood bed…wasn't that everyone's little fantasy?

"Well, you can ask him later, then and see what he wants to do."

:o:o:o:o

Eames yawned and stretched in the warm cocoon of blankets. He felt like he slept for months, and despite the fact he could still keep sleeping, he knew it was kind of rude. It was already starting to get dark, and by the position of the sun in the sky, he knew it had to be after four. Proper etiquette certainly called for him to get up and greet the people that had given their home to him.

He shifted in bed as he went to get up and groaned as he accidentally rubbed himself. Thanks to the amazing biological phenomenon, he was rock hard when he woke and he reached down to palm himself through the soft fleece of the sleeping pants. He actually felt a little conflicted about the whole thing, seeing as they must have been Suzanne's father's clothes, and here he was beginning to squeeze his flesh in a rhythm to start. But when his eyes looked over to see a fully stocked box of tissues on the bedside table, well, it was like a sign.

His eyes slid closed as he undid the drawstring and kicked off his pants, pulling his t-shirt up to expose his abdomen. One hand absently stroked the ridge of muscles as the other reached down to take his swollen manhood in a tight grip. He thought for a second about the guilt that he felt the other day about hurting Suzanne, but his body refused to be deterred this time. He'd come all this way for her…and the surprise in her eyes at the door, and later when she showed him to his room…it was a small hope, but he chose to believe that she wanted him to be there.

So instead of dwelling on doubt, his blood hummed hotly with memories of tasting her beautiful body. Drinking up that sugary sweet liquor had left him drunk on her, and even now his mouth watered. He licked his lips slowly as a completely new fantasy began to play behind his eyelids.

The sights and sounds of a Carnival night were all around him. He was back in the little flat he owned, sitting out on the balcony as the parade went on below. She was stretched out on the padded, wicker sun chair completely nude, her pale skin kissed with a bit of pink from a day lounging the sun. The darkness afforded them just enough privacy to be mostly concealed, but the lights and fireworks were there to remind them that they were definitely very far from being in private. The taboo of being seen didn't seem to bother her; she was stretching out, showing off the perfect round peaks of her breasts and teasing him as she shifted her legs to draw his attention to the flawlessly waxed skin between her legs.

Eames bit his lip with a cheeky smile as his thumb circled the sensitive tip of his cock; spreading the eager moisture that was already collecting…he knew he'd always liked Brazil for a reason.

Suzanne in an indecent scrap of a string bikini frolicking in the sand and surf was certainly enough to make him want to book tickets.

But her fantasy projection was calling to him, and he was more than happy to oblige.

He reached for a bowl of ice cold, fresh tropical fruit on the table next to her and grabbed a sticky piece of sugary sweet papaya. The buttery soft flesh of the musky fruit almost melted in his fingers as he brought it down to circle her pink nipples, groaning as they hardened instantly at the change in temperature. He traced the fruit down the flat plane of her stomach, leaving a trail of moisture as he looked up to see her moan and open her legs as he dragged it across her clit. He finally brought the piece of melting fruit to his mouth, putting it between his teeth before leaning over her and feeding it to her with a ravenous kiss.

Eames was panting and trying to keep his voice from groaning out loud as he was stroking himself hard and fast at the thoughts that flew through his mind. The way he could taste the juice on every inch of the flesh that he knew from memory was real enough to make him seriously consider checking his totem to make sure that he wasn't dreaming. Her nipples would be delicious, and she would whimper when he suckled them. Her stomach was firm and so soft; it would be almost too smooth to feel texture. And when he went lower, when he dipped his head between her thighs to take her pink, tangy flesh into his mouth… she would taste like candy when she came, and he would drink it all …

"_Oh fuck, yes_," He whispered harshly as his entire body began tense and tighten. The white-hot sparks of arousal raced down his spine and he strained against the bed, his free hand fisted the sheet and he leaned his head back against the pillow. His release came suddenly and he had to choke off a groan as the force of his climax hit him like a brick wall. He could feel his cock pulsing hard as he spilled onto his stomach, the ghosts of his heartbeat echoing through the spent flesh even after he was done.

He swallowed hard as he reached for the tissues and pulled out a couple to clean up the mess, his chest was still heaving. Goddamn. He hadn't enjoyed a good wank like that since…well, since Richard Jensen's closet. The sudden feeling of something cold and wet against his arm made him jump. He snapped his head to the right to see a pair of big brown eyes staring at him from the face of a huge, Chocolate Labrador. The dog licked his arm and Eames laughed as he quickly pulled up his pants, noticing that his furry friend managed to push the door open to his room.

Not exactly the impression he wanted to give to her parents.

"Hey there, mate," He said softly as he sat up and let a hand rest on the top of the dog's head before scratching his ears. "You're a big man, yeah? You come up here to wake me up?" The dog wagged his tail and turned to the door. Eames stood up and tied his pants, very thankful that everything below his waist was now calm and quiet. He grabbed the robe at the foot of the bed and balled up the evidence of his little indiscretion and walked out of the room, stopping to throw the tissues in the bathroom trash before washing his hands and walking downstairs to meet the Williams family.

Eames laughed at the way his stomach twisted. He wanted to call it hunger pangs, refusing to believe that what he was feeling was nerves or panic. It certainly because he was walking into the life of the wonderful family of the woman he loved, with no idea how they were going to feel about him.

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne was sitting and talking to her father about the Ursid Meteor Shower that was peaking over the next few days when she heard feet on the stairs. She turned to see him following Floyd's lumbering form into the great room.

"Hey," She said quietly. He nodded as he stood at the side of her chair, seeming somewhat uneasy about standing in front of her father in _his_ clothes.

"I wanted to thank you for your hospitality, sir." Eames said as he extended his hand.

Her father smiled and reached out with his wide palm to clasp Eames' in a hard shake. Suzanne smiled as he nodded, apparently impressed with the strength of his grip, "Allan Williams, very nice to meet you."

"Thomas Heathcliff," Eames responded, hating the way he was lying to her father's face. He didn't seem like the type of man to appreciate dishonesty.

"So, you are a temp working for Suzanne, huh?" Her father asked as he looked up at him. "What sort of background do you have? You seem a little old to be graduating college."

Suzanne's eyes bugged out of her head and she looked at Eames who seemed to be taking it all in stride. "Well, I used to work for HSBC in London making way too much money managing accounts, but we all know how well banks have been doing lately. So after almost ten years I found myself starting over, in LA of all places."

"Ah, yeah, that would do it." Her father chuckled. "Job market is a hell of a thing recently. So you're a banker then?"

"I suppose," Eames answered with a shrug. "There isn't a lot of money to be had in classic literature, though I keep my eyes open."

"A poet banker," He smiled as he looked over at Suzanne. "Good find there, kiddo." Suzanne blushed terribly, and shook her head as her father got up and walked out of the room.

Eames waited until he was gone to look down at her. This was the second day in a row she was sitting in something that bore no resemblance to the high-end designer clothes she seemed to live in. In fact, she was in a very interesting Christmas themed flannel sleep set, with her silky black hair tied up in a messy bun. But damn it if she wasn't more gorgeous now than she was in those skin-tight suits and sky-high heels.

"Love the outfit, Annie." He winked playfully.

"I'm relaxing." She snapped instantly upset at his insult.

"I wasn't joking, darling." He said as he leaned down to put his face to her ear. "You look gorgeous, and so very happy." He pulled away, just barely touching his lips to her cheek as he nodded to the kitchen. "Would you introduce me to your mother, I'd like to say thank you for letting me stay the night."

Suzanne nodded almost dumbly as she walked into the kitchen, feeling the warmth of his body right behind her. "Mom, I wanted to introduce you to Tom. Tom, this is my mother."

She smiled as she sliced up a huge loaf of crusty bread to go with the huge pot of hearty soup that was simmering on the stove. "Give me one minute…ah, perfect." She wiped her hands on her apron and walked over to Eames to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "You look much better this afternoon, and after Allan's soup I guarantee that you'll be back to normal."

"Thank you," He said quietly. "I appreciate the night's sleep."

Her friendly smile was contagious, "Honey, giving a warm bed to a cold, tired body is nothing that needs thanking. It's something that needs to be done. Now, you can thank me for inviting you to stay the next couple of days for the holiday. I don't like the thought of a single man alone on Christmas."

Eames swallowed hard as a strange lump formed in his throat and his chest tightened. She didn't know him at all and she was willing to share her family table with him. It was humbling, and something he'd never felt before. "Um, Mrs. Williams, I don't want to be an imposition. I don't want to put you out, you…" He was stuttering like a fool, and he could feel his ears getting red. He felt like he was a damn kid again, and the thought of charity twisted his gut sharply. He avoided looking at Suzanne's pretty green eyes as she watched him intently.

"First off," She said as she looked at him with a jokingly stern stare, "I have enough food for a damn army, second of all, you do not spend a holiday alone, no matter what."

"Thank you, Mrs. Williams." He managed quietly.

"Pauline."

"If you insist, Pauline, I would love to join your family."

She winked and turned back to setting the table as Eames finally looked over at Suzanne. He paused when he saw the look on her face. She was staring at him in a way that made his heart pound. It was the look he gave her all those years ago…it was gone just as quick as she went to help her mother.

:o:o:o:o

Aside from being in the midst of making love to her, Eames thought that having a belly full of this food was as close as he'd come to heaven. He'd forgotten how much he loved Annie's cooking, and she certainly had learned it from her mother, and apparently her father as well. He actually waited until her father grabbed a third bowl before he helped himself as well. Even though her mother kept offering him more, he didn't want to seem like too much of a damn glutton.

"You slept enough to help me in the barn tomorrow, Suz?" Her father asked. "Rebel threw a shoe this morning, and I figure while I got ya around you can help with Chico's feet."

Suzanne nodded as she dipped her bread into the plate of broth that she'd helped herself to after her first bowl of soup. He was happy to see her eating like she used to, without concern for her waif-like figure.

"Sure, Dad. What time?"

"Meh, like ten, I'm retired you know I don't get up too early." He finished his plate and looked up, "How about you, Tom, you know anything about horses?"

"Not on an expert level," He confessed. "But I'd like to assist you if I can."

"Sure, I can always use a hand."

He nodded and finished his bowl, passing on the instinct to have more and instead taking his to the sink to rinse it out and then putting it into the dishwasher. He walked back to the table and grabbed the plate that her mother had already put aside and did the same thing, before sitting back down.

:o:o:o:o

Conflicted was the only way to describe what she felt. Suzanne stood in the small second floor bathroom hours later and towel dried her hair as she stared in the mirror after a hot shower.

Last night when she opened the door she was still angry about so many things. But to see that he'd come all this way for her when her own fucking husband couldn't bother, and the way he was humble and polite with her parents, to be so thankful for her mother's invitation and to help her clean the kitchen after dinner. It made her heart ache with a feeling of absolute adoration.

To hear him say that he wanted to join their family…

A small voice in the back of her head reminded her that this was a man who routinely acted and manipulated to get what he wanted. This could be another ruse of a master thief. She could have possibly believed it, if it wasn't for the feeling in her gut that told her that he wasn't lying.

She sighed as she put her pajamas back on and threw her hair up, she'd just have to keep her guard up. She opened the door and flipped off the light as she stepped out into the dark hallway. Her body froze in shock as she saw the outline of his body in the shadows.

"You scared me," She whispered quietly.

"I'm sorry," He mumbled as his grey eyes, lit only by the nightlight in the bathroom, stared at her like two dark pools. "Is the shower free?"

Suzanne nodded as tried to look away as he stepped closer to her, bringing his warm body up to touch hers. She couldn't control the way she responded to him instantly, her pulse was galloping and she could feel her skin prickle with the electricity of the moment.

"I won't touch you again, Annie," He finally spoke lowly, pulling her attention back to his unbearably handsome face. His jaw was set hard and his eyes were intently focused on hers, "Not until you ask me to." He paused for another moment and leaned in until his lips brushed against her ear. "I'll wait for the rest of my life if I have to. There is no other for me, love. It's you or it's nothing."

She thanked God for the darkness because she knew that the tears had come, and she was helpless to stop them.

But true to his word he didn't touch her; he merely stepped away and walked around her to step into the bathroom. "Good night, darling." He said quietly as he shut the door.

Suzanne walked to her room as her heart pounded and her hands shook. She shut and locked the door before she walked to her bed, crawled underneath the covers and sobbed herself to sleep. She loved him, _God help her_, she loved him and she didn't want to keep fighting it. She _couldn't_ keep fighting him.


	15. Chapter 15

**AN: Muse is out of control! I can't stop, I just can't stop!**

**This chapter is enlightening…and definitely opens up some interesting concepts that I have been thinking about for ages.**

**So, please read and review…tell me what you think!**

**This one might be rough…but I want to give it to you guys anyhow have a busy day tomorrow, so writing will be limited : ) **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_Northborough, Massachusetts_

_2010_

* * *

Apparently Suzanne's body had met its sleep quota, because she was wide awake at seven in the morning. She got out of bed with a stretch and walked over to her desk to finally grab the FedEx envelope that Eames had delivered the other night. She opened it with a quick pull and fished out the very plain five page document that had her company's firewall codes on it.

Generally a document with such importance would have never left the office. But Suzanne figured that it was just as safe with her here as anywhere else. Not to mention the fact that it was all encrypted and someone would really have to know what they were doing, and what it applied to before there was any chance that it would become a problem.

She packaged it back up and stared at her laptop bag next to her luggage. Part of her wanted to log onto her email and see what was going on in her absence, but a much bigger and louder part of her brain told her that she completely didn't give a shit and that she was far more interested in getting dressed and going downstairs to make breakfast for everyone.

Normally a woman who spent her days wearing underwear that cost more than most people's entire paycheck would be adverse to spending her time mucking out a stall and smelling like horse, but not Suzanne. She loved the animals more than anything, and it had been far too long since she'd been able to ride.

She pulled a pair of beat-up faded jeans out of her bureau, amazingly she'd had them since high school, and the fact that she was thin enough to wear them was something of a surprise. She paired it with a fitted navy long-sleeved thermal shirt and her brown boots. Her hair was thrown up into a tight ponytail and she completely left off any makeup.

She paused for a long second as she stared at the obnoxiously large diamond ring on her finger. The stable certainly wasn't the place to wear it, especially if she was going to be working with her hands. She slid off the heavy rings and placed them gently on the very center of her desk. She stared down at her hand and a strange feeling came over her, as if the symbol of her life with Richard was gone and she was left with only herself behind.

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne walked into the kitchen and was surprised to see her mother already there cracking eggs into a huge bowl, and on the stove was a huge cast iron skillet filled with sautéed spinach, mushrooms, ham, onions, tomatoes and little balls of mozzarella cheese.

"Making a frittata?" Suzanne asked as she sniffed the air appreciatively, "Smells amazing."

"You know Dad loves them," She answered as she leaned over for a kiss. "I probably should have asked Tom if there was anything he doesn't like."

"No, he just doesn't like peas," Suzanne said as she reached for her coffee mug, pausing when she realized what she had said. "Well that is what he told my Assistant the other day at lunch."

Her mother quirked up her eyebrow but ignored it for the most part. "So how is Nita?"

"Really good, she's so sweet. I'm very lucky to have her."

"She's such a cutie, too, she needs a good man." Her mother replied as she poured the full bowl into the skillet and hefted the whole thing into the oven.

"I think Tom is setting her up with a friend of his."

"That was nice of him," She breathed. "Funny that he didn't ask her himself, seeing that he's single and all."

Suzanne blushed, "Oh, I don't know, maybe she's not his type."

"Right," She answered. "I see."

Thankfully any further discussion was cut off as both Floyd and Stella bounded into the kitchen looking for their morning breakfast.

:o:o:o:o

Eames had been lying in bed wide awake since six in the morning.

He'd slept more peacefully in the past day than he had in a very long time. In fact the only thing that could have made him more comfortable was if Suzanne had been curled up at his side and he was able to hold her in his arms.

Although he had a guest on his bed for a majority of the night, sometime after midnight the large lab came sneaking in and after a bit of scrambling and finally Eames' help, he curled right next to him and slept. He wasn't exactly sure if it was protocol or not in the Williams household to let the dogs up on the bed, but he was grateful for the animal's presence. For no other reason that it allowed him to calm his raging thoughts and emotions after leaving Suzanne in the hallway.

He'd basically told her that he would step-back and let her decide. He wasn't going to force her into anything. And even though it would kill him to wait, he was telling the truth, there would never be anyone else in his life. He'd tasted heaven with Annie, and he'd prefer celibacy to settling for less-though he _really_ didn't want to be stuck with his hand for the rest of his life.

Cringing at that thought, he let his mind wander to the present. It was Christmas Eve. Normally a day that was like every other for him, with the exception that he usually had an extra holiday themed alcoholic beverage.

But today was different. He had someone to celebrate it with.

He wanted to do something for her, but grand gestures and expensive presents were a little late. An idea struck him and he sat up, getting out of bed to grab his briefcase and pull out a piece of thick count paper that he'd used to print out his resume and one of the many fountain pens that he had.

It wasn't going to be anything that cost more than the time it took him to translate the memory of something he'd read not long ago to paper, but he was quite sure that it was something that Richard Jensen would never be able to give her.

:o:o:o:o

Eames walked down the stairs after he'd finished, leaving his little gift in a plain white envelope beneath his pillow, he would give it to her later, in private. But he wanted more than anything to see the look on her face when she opened it.

He could hear Suzanne and her parents in the kitchen, but curiosity drew him into the living room. He wandered in to see a huge cream sectional couch that looked obscenely comfortable, a massive picture window let in the morning sun, facing a beautiful snow covered pasture and a nice looking flat screen TV and entertainment center. The entire space was filled with various antiques that added a definite cozy charm to the space.

But what he notice most of all were the pictures that covered every wall.

On one wall was a 1970's style wedding photo of what had to be her parents. Eames couldn't get over how tiny Pauline looked in her plain white dress, she looked no bigger than a doll…though it had to be noted that her breasts were incredible, genetics that had she'd passed to her daughter. And most of all it was amazing just how much she looked like Suzanne.

He moved to a posed picture of an elderly couple that looked like it was taken in a department store photo studio in the 1980's. The man was smiling and the woman was as well. He wondered if this was the Grandparents that she used to talk about so much.

There was a multitude of photos of Suzanne and her parents throughout the years. It looked like they'd had one taken every year from the time she'd been a baby until she went to college.

And Annie.

She was everywhere. There was a large picture of her with her arms crossed as she posed against a railing. Her eyes were confident, intelligent and clear. Her skin glowed with youth; she mustn't have been any older than 18. It was probably her senior portrait.

Surrounding that was literally dozens of others of her riding in competitions and dressed up in elegant skating outfits. One or two others had him smiling thoughtfully. They were of her and a young Mallorie Cobb. One at a café in Paris as they both ate a cone of gelato and another of them posed comically in front of the Eiffel Tower.

It hurt his heart to think of what Mal's death must have done to her, and to have him leave as well on the same day.

As if in answer to his contemplation, Eames looked over to see an 8"X10" silver frame resting on a small end table. The black and white photo was of her wedding day. He wasn't sure why he lifted it up to look closer at it. It was the worst day of his damn life. She looked like a Goddess, so pale and so cold. And the way he touched her…like he was displaying a trophy. A prize he'd won instead of the woman he loved.

"There you are."

Her mother's voice startled him and he quickly put the wedding picture back quickly.

"Sorry, I was just looking at your family." He explained with a smile. "It's lovely, very, very lovely."

She laughed, "They are my life." She held up a pile of clothes, "I got you some of Allan's work clothes; amazingly you both look about the same size. Though I wager I can bounce a quarter off of your abs and my husband's would absorb the same quarter."

Eames chuckled, "I don't know Ma'am, if I keep eating meals that you prepare I'm liable to be round myself very soon."

She rolled her eyes and smiled. "I doubt that. Now what size shoe?"

Eames had to think for a second for the US equivalent to come to him. "Ten, I believe. Not large in the foot department, I'm afraid." It was a cheeky answer, and just like he knew she would, a little light of amusement danced in her green eyes.

"That's my husband's size as well, aren't you two twins," She smirked. "And by the way, if you are anything like him, your feet are small because the size went somewhere else. Honestly, that's where it matters."

Eames shrugged as he accepted the clothes with a wink, "Well, it's impolite to brag ma'am."

She laughed and turned back towards the kitchen, "Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes, go get changed and meet us in the kitchen."

:o:o:o:o

After breakfast the three of them made their way out to the barn with the two dogs following suit, well, the human's kept to the narrow snow-blown path through the foot and a half of powder, the dogs felt the need to bound playfully through the drifts. Suzanne smiled as she watched them, her eyes darting up from the melee to stare at the man walking in front of her. It took a moment to digest the fact that she was starting at the way a pair of her father's faded blue jeans hung just right off of Eames' perfectly tight rear end. Not to mention when he'd walked past her in a plain t-shirt and one of Dad's plaid flannel jackets that now smelled of his insanely delicious cologne, she actually felt herself dampen.

She bit her lip and tried to ignore the desire to back him up against the wall and climb him like a tree. Mmm, she'd always wanted to make love in the hay loft.

Suzanne frowned and shook her head. What the hell was her problem? For a moment she was legitimately concerned that her mother had slipped some whiskey into her coffee or something, because she could not stop thinking about him.

Was it because he so far had continued to make good on his word that he wasn't going to touch her?

The fact that for once she wasn't left with the excuse that what she was feeling from his constant seduction, instead it was the knowledge that her desire for him was something that burned in her own body. Her love was always there, and hers alone…his feelings didn't cause it, they only served to amplify it.

Her father opened the door to the barn and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she walked in. It smelled like molasses from the oats, the sweet smell of hay and alfalfa, and yes even the acrid smell of urine made her soul calm instantly. It was a way to instantly connect to her childhood memories.

The main sliding door to the barn remained closed in the cold, and they walked into the large inner riding ring that Suzanne had built for them a year ago as a retirement present. Her father walked to the far wall and down the narrow corridor of stables. There were five in total but at the moment there were only three that were occupied.

Her father had always raised Quarter Horses, with the exception of a hearty little Shetland pony named Penny that Suzanne had owned when she was a little girl.

In the nearest stable was her mother's Palomino, Jinx, a gorgeous five-year-old mare that was a bit strong willed, but extremely agile and when she was in the proper mood she could turn in a barrel racing run that couldn't be beaten. Next to her was Chico, a fifteen-year-old buckskin gelding that her father had owned since he was a foal, and in the last stable was her father's newest edition, a rescued seven-year-old chestnut gelding named Rebel. The horse was huge, 16.2 hands with a chest like a huge barrel. He was gelded when her father first took him in last fall, but unfortunately he had already grown accustomed to being a stallion and as a result he was generally even-keeled but he was strong and stubborn when he wanted to be.

Suzanne had ridden him only once last Christmas, and after having to literally pull back on the reins with everything that she had in order to get him to stop from a canter she had enough.

"That's Jinx, Chico and Rebel," Her father said over his shoulder to Eames proudly, "My boys and Momma's pretty girl."

She laughed as she walked by Chico's stall and he instantly lifted his large golden head over the door to nuzzle at her shoulder. She scratched under the long black hair that hung over his forehead and leaned over to kiss the velvet soft skin between his nostrils. "Hey, you miss me?" She mumbled affectionately, "I missed you."

Eames was standing behind her and she could feel him close, she straightened up to look back over her shoulder, feeling no unease at all at the closeness of his face. She gently took his hand and placed it flat on the animal's neck, enjoying how he rested his other hand on her hip to steady his body as she drew his palm up under Chico's chin. "He loves a good scratch right here," She said fondly, leaning back as the horse stretched out his head like a dog and closed his big brown eyes.

He laughed as the animal's mouth began to go slack as it rested against Suzanne's chest. "I think he's just using a sneaky excuse to get close to you, love" He whispered in her ear, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin on her neck.

"And of course you would know that because you are intimately familiar with the concept," She replied as she leaned back into the broad wall of his chest, unable to stop herself from taking a deep breath to savor the smell of his cologne.

"I've never pretended otherwise," He answered, his voice husky.

A loud clap of horse hooves on the pavement near them snapped Suzanne out of her daze, she hadn't even been paying attention to the fact that her father was in the room. The instant that her back straightened, Eames backed off and gave her space. Her father didn't seem to care in the least, but she knew better. He never missed anything, and he would be telling her mother everything.

"Banana, you want to give his feet a little trim?" He asked over his shoulder. The use of her pet name was further proof that he _definitely _saw them.

Eames smiled at the name and quirked up his brow.

"Sure, Dad," She answered as she grabbed the lock to Chico's stall and flipped it open before turning to look at his interested face. "You may never utter that name."

He raised his hand in defense as she rolled her eyes and led the horse into the hall and secured his halter to either side of the wall to loosely hold him in place as she ducked into one of the empty stalls to grab a leather apron and a bunch of large files and clippers.

:o:o:o:o

Eames stood next to her as she was candidly describing everything that she was doing to trim off the excess nail that had grown around the horseshoe as a result of the winter keeping the horses mostly sedentary. He loved to see her talking about something with such interest and passion. Her voice was calming and even the majestic animal that she was working on seemed to be completely relaxed in her presence.

When she was finished she turned back to her father with a bright smile, "Is Jinx tuned up?"

"You know your mother," he called back, "She's pretty decent."

"I think I'm gonna take her around a few times." She answered as she led Chico back in.

"Can you hop on Rebel a bit?" He asked as he tossed his tools into a bucket. "My back's been bothering me and I haven't been able to be on him for a week."

She made a face and stared at him, "I don't know, Daddy. I don't think I'm strong enough."

Eames cleared his throat, "I'll take him out if you'd like."

Both the Williams' stopped and looked at him. Suzanne took a deep breath before she spoke, "I don't know if that's a good idea, he's not for someone who hasn't ridden before."

"Whatever gave you the impression that I've never ridden before, love?" He answered with a smile. "I'll be just fine, I assure you."

Her father nodded, "Alright then, very good. Suzanne, help the man tack up."

:o:o:o:o

The two of them were in the ring a moment later, and Suzanne watched carefully as Eames hoisted himself high into the saddle with alarming ease. He hadn't been lying; he knew what he was doing. Though he was definitely reining English, but Rebel seemed to be completely under his control. She absently jumped up on top of Jinx and trotted to catch up with him. As she pulled in beside him she had to laugh out loud, "Are you actually fighting the urge to post to the trot like a proper English gentleman, Mr. Heathcliff?"

He laughed, "I am actually, I have no idea how to reign with the neck, and I have a feeling my boy here knows it too. But I suppose I can make due long enough. He is bloody strong, though."

Suzanne reached across to help him into a western hold with one hand, and placing his free hand on his thigh. "See just like that."

It wasn't a second later that he was comfortably taking Rebel around the ring with impressive ease. She couldn't help but admire the way his strong body moved in tandem with the animal beneath him, and a blush heated her cheeks as she bit her lip…she knew the power in his muscles, how he could effortlessly move them in a rhythm.

They rode for the better part of an hour before they cooled the horses down and her father waved them over.

"Hey, Tom, you up for throwing around some hay bales? I have to clear out a bit in the loft and I don't want to have to have Pauline help me after the holiday. I'll put it out there that my old lady is many things, but a lifter she is not."

"Absolutely, sir, just let me clean him off."

Her father nodded and walked off, and Suzanne slid off Jinx. Trying to find something to get her mind off of the way his ass looked in his jeans and the way his hips looked rocking in the saddle. "It's on the second floor, the hay loft."

Eames smirked as he dismounted with a strong vault. "Most lofts are, darling. It's why they are called such."

They led the horses to the hall where they each slid off the saddles, blankets and slid off the bridle after replacing the halter. After a quick brush they were tucked back into the stalls and Suzanne hefted her tack to the room in the back of the stables as Eames followed.

She replaced her saddle and turned to him with a triumphant smile as a bit of his past clicked into her mind. "So, did you learn to ride in boarding school at Harrow, or did you play polo at Oxford?"

His back was to her and she could see the entire line of his back instantly freeze at her question. He turned to face her and Suzanne was shocked at the fury that was in his darkening grey eyes. "What did you just ask me?"

The anger in his tone immediately had her on the defensive, "I asked if you learned your way around horses in one of your silver spoon schools, Eames."

A growling laugh hissed out of his mouth and he clenched his jaw, "Oh I see, Annie, you think you know about me now because you spent a little of your rich husband's money to do a little fucking research, is that it? That what your brilliant mind deduced, sweetheart? That I'm a silver spoon brat?"

"That's_ really_ funny. You detest Richard for growing up spoiled, and what exactly makes you so different? Because from where I can see you look exactly the fucking same to me on paper. Are you supposed to be noble because you decided to snub your nose at Mommy and Daddy and be a bad boy instead of a blue blood?"

He slammed the heavy saddle onto its rest and took two steps to put his face right in hers with a nasty sneer on his full lips. Suzanne recoiled at the anger in his body and for a moment she was actually scared of him. His voice was seething with venom when he finally spoke. "See that's the problem with your little story, Annie. You didn't bother to get the whole sordid and pathetic truth. But I'll tell you, yeah, I went to Oxford and Harrow, and I got there because I'm fucking_ brilliant_. I was a charity case. The state felt bad for a no-good piece of shit orphan from Sheffield that nobody wanted. So they sent me off to school with a free ride, where I spent every day with wankers like Richard _fucking_ Jensen who reminded me every second of every minute exactly what I was- _nothing_."

His eyes were cold and hard, there was none of the man that she loved in there.

"But I learned to play their fucking game. I learned their accent, the way they acted and thought. I played polo, went to tennis matches, and was the butt of their jokes with a smile, all while I picked their pockets and fucked their rich trust-fund whore sisters behind their backs. By the time I left Oxford I was having dinner with people in Parliament like I was royalty, _I _got the last laugh, _darling_. And I _still_ steal from them every chance I get, because I fucking _love _it."

Tears were welling up in her eyes. She wanted him to stop; she didn't want to hear him talk about himself like this. Oh God, this was all her fault.

"That make you happy? Hmm? Me and your _husband_ the same, now? Or does it bother you with your perfect family and your perfect life to find out you've been slumming it with a fatherless charity case all along?"

She was crying openly now at his anguishing words and Eames stared at her hard before he snarled and stepped away, turning his back and angrily raising his hand. "Save your fucking pity for someone else, love, I don't need it." He stormed out of the room and headed towards the stairs to the hay loft.

Suzanne covered her mouth as the tears streamed down her face. Her chest ached for him, and suddenly so much of it made sense. It _was _all an act. But not in the way that she had thought. The entire cock-sure confident Eames that walked around like he was bulletproof, _that_ was the lie. The real man, Edward, was a man who had spent his life hiding who he was from the world; it was the man she'd seen only a handful of times.


	16. Chapter 16

**AN: Yay! I have a Wednesday present for you all…**

**It's fluffy, and lemony and probably a little humorous, and I hope it gives weight to the emotions that I was hoping to achieve.**

**I have to give a very big thank you to one of my very lovely and sweet readers une. belle .fleur who told me about the poem that is used. She actually said my stories came to mind when she read it, and darn it if that isn't the most flattering thing ever! And it is a gorgeous poem, I own nothing and will make nothing off this story- so all credit to the poet on that.**

**I hope that you all enjoy this and that it puts you in the same happy place it put me in to write it.**

**As always I own nothing at all except my muse…please read and review!**

* * *

_Northborough, Massachusetts_

_2010_

* * *

Eames regretted his outburst before he even made it to the stairs for the hayloft. But strangely enough, for the first time in his life he wasn't upset about the fact that he had given up the deepest darkest little secret about his unsavory past, but more that he'd been as savage as an animal when talking to the woman he loved.

She'd made a logical assumption off of the information she'd been able to locate, which admittedly he'd personally seen to was rather scarce, about his upbringing. How was she supposed to know? He'd certainly been less than willing to talk to her when she'd asked in the past.

But it was when she compared him to fucking _Richard_ that he lost it. The thought that she would compare him in any way to that spoiled wanker made his blood boil all over again. He hated that man for everything he stood for, and most of all, because he had taken her.

Eames walked up the stairs to see her father already stacking bales in the large open space. The loft was nearly full, undoubtedly because it had been loaded for the winter season, piled at least seven bales high and an untold number deep. Her father looked like he was tossing some of the higher bales down to the floor to make the mountain a little more accessible.

The man was already sweating from the enclosed space and he turned to meet Eames with a huffing breath, tossing him a pair of rough leather gloves and holding out two metal hooks with handles on the end. "Ready to work, son?"

"Yes, sir," He answered instantly.

"Just want to pull those down from the top and move them over to the chute here. Why don't you climb up and toss a few down first, it will make it easier."

Eames nodded and climbed to the top of the pile and began to move each 50lb bale by hooking it in the sides and tossing it down to the next level.

:o:o:o:o

It wasn't long before he was sweating like a pig and grunting with effort. Bloody hell, it had been a long time since he'd done this sort of manual labor. When it finally became unbearable he shed the heavy flannel jacket and worked in nothing but a white t-shirt that was getting more soaking wet by the minute.

Eames finally stood up to wipe his dripping brow with the bottom of his shirt and took a deep breath, realizing that with each heavy exhale he could feel tension and irritation purge from his body.

Her father cracked a half smile as he looked over at him from across the room. "So," he said slowly. "This _should_ be the point in time that I tell you that I know that you have designs on my little girl. It also should be the time that I remind you that she's a married woman, and that you should back off."

Eames stared hard at the man, trying to read the emotions in his dark brown eyes, but for the life of him he didn't know how to take him.

"Then again that assumes a couple of things, one, that I can in anyway influence anything that Suz does- I can't by the way, she put me on the sidelines when she was ten or so, and two, that I like the fact that she's married to that meathead."

He laughed at the man's frank words, unable to stop his honest reply. "I'll respond that, I'm very aware that what I am doing is completely wrong on a philosophical level, but unfortunately, sir, I have to tell you that I'm committed. I care for her more than anything, I can't let go of her. I won't walk away unless Suzanne sends me off."

Her father arched his brow and grabbed a bale, "So, I suppose that I'm _also_ not supposed to tell you that when I met Pauline she was engaged to this fuckin' prick and I fell head over heels for her. I wouldn't have backed off no matter what anyone said to me." He chuckled conspiratorially, "Woman weighed ninety pounds and sixty of it was in her bra, _goddamn_."

Eames laughed, amazed at the man's confession, and the frank way that he seemed to be giving him permission to romance his married daughter. "Sir, I respectfully decline to comment on that; suffices to say that your family makes amazing women."

"Good answer, son, good answer. Now, let's get a move on, we've got a lot more to do before my wife will let me in the house." He stopped for a second and turned to look at him again. "I _will_ tell you however that if you hurt my baby girl for any reason I have no problem whatsoever making you disappear from this Earth. I have a shotgun and friends that own a pig farm. No one will even notice."

Eames shook his head with a grimace, "Noted and filed away for further reference, sir."

"Excellent."

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne was miserable as she walked back from the barn into the house. She was cursing her damn ego. They had enjoyed a ridiculously romantic morning in the stables, and she had to go and snootily assume something. She couldn't have just _asked _him where he learned to ride?

She wiped the reddened skin under her eyes as a stray tear spilled out. What he had said, and the hurt and anger in his voice, it broke her heart. To think that he had ever been so alone in his life, with no one to turn to, no one to love him or comfort him, it explained so much. She had judged him through her rose tinted glasses. Yes he had run out on her, yes he had hurt her…but maybe he didn't know any different.

She walked into the kitchen to find her mother meticulously cutting thick pork chops to stuff them with her homemade apple stuffing. "Hey, Mom," She spoke up quietly as she turned on the sink to scrub the dirt from the barn off of her hands, "Need any help with anything?"

Her mother shook her head and turned to look at her, staring her down for a moment. "Are you alright honey? You look upset."

Suzanne frowned and shrugged, "Honestly…I don't know what I feel right now."

"Oh?"

In that one word she knew that her mother already knew everything. It was a relief in some way; she hadn't been able to talk to anyone for so long about what she'd been feeling. She'd bottled up her emotions day after day, and now she was crumbling under the weight of it all.

"I'm miserable, Mom." The words felt like a catharsis. Just verbalizing the awful truth made her feel better. "I thought I wanted safety, stability, that if nothing was risked I wouldn't have to worry that I was ever going to feel hurt again. But look at me; I'm a pathetic puppet who waits at the beck and call of a husband who cares more about his business legacy than our marriage. I can't even tell you the last time we slept together- the last time he told me he loved me." She could feel herself start to rant, but it felt so good. "Do you know he won't even go down on me? Hell he doesn't even let me go down on HIM! Who's like that? Who tells their wife that pleasing her is 'beneath' them?"

"Well," She stopped what she was doing and turned around to face her. "I can't tell you how long I've waited to hear my daughter's voice again."

Suzanne laughed darkly, "That's because your daughter has had her head up her ass for a long time."

"It was to be expected," Her mother reasoned. "You got hurt, honey."

She shrugged and stared down at her feet. "I think Mem would have been really disappointed in me."

"Don't say that Suzanne. She would never have been disappointed in you. Look at you, look at what you have accomplished in your life." Her arms reached out and Suzanne couldn't help but let her hold onto her like she had since she was a little girl whenever she was upset. "Your Grandmother would have been proud that you are woman enough to constantly strive to be better in your life."

"Thanks, Momma." She mumbled as she squeezed her tight before letting go with a sigh. "I think I'm going to go take a little nap upstairs, I'm really tired. Getting lazy on vacation I guess."

"Okay," Her mother answered as she turned back around to her dinner prep, "I'll make sure to send Eames to fetch you once he gets in here from the barn."

Suzanne froze mid-step and spun around with her mouth wide open. Damn woman was like Sherlock Holmes. She shook her head, "When did you figure it out?"

"The instant he opened his mouth, _darling_; that man's voice does something to you. I talked to him every Sunday for a month; did you think I'd really forget the man my daughter is in love with?" She chuckled. "Not to mention the fact that one couldn't miss the way he looks at you. Christ, it's so damn hot, _I'm_ worried about getting impregnated and I've been through menopause."

"Mother, really!?" Suzanne covered her face with her hands with a groan, "I'm exiting the room."

"I'll make sure my door is closed tonight," She egged on as she left.

"I can't hear you!"

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne walked up the stairs and shook her head, so much for concealing his identity. But there was still the nagging feeling as she climbed that she really needed to apologize to him for what she'd said. She just didn't know how to do it without making him feel uncomfortable. It was obvious at the way that he flew off the handle so fast that the memories of his past were so painful. Her mind was so deep in thought that she didn't realize where she was going until she was standing outside of his door.

Unconsciously she opened it and walked into the guest room. The minute she crossed the threshold she could smell him. She closed her eyes to breathe the instant calm. It was like smelling fresh brewed coffee and cinnamon buns on a cold weekend morning…it was comfort. She walked over to the bed and crawled onto the comforter, letting her head rest on the same soft pillow that he slept on the previous night. She toed off her boots and let them fall to the carpeted floor with a couple of loud clunks before she curled up into a ball, letting her hand slide under the pillow to prop it up. She was just going to close her eyes for a few minutes.

Suddenly her hand brushed against something underneath her head. She sat up as she withdrew her hand to pull out an envelope. She turned it over to see "_For My Annie_"scrawled in fluid black letters. Her heart started to race and she could see her hand trembling she stared at it. Did she open it?

The rational voice in her head told her that she was supposed to put it back, that he'd obviously intended to give it to her at a later time and it would be a further breach of his trust to open it now. But there was the insatiably curious part of her that wanted to…that _had_ to see what was inside.

She took a deep breath and slipped the envelope open with a quick swipe.

There was a thick cut piece of very high quality paper and she opened the neat folds to stare at more of his elegant penmanship. Suzanne stared at the paper with a deep breath; it was a small letter and a poem.

_To my darling Annie: It was some time ago in my arrogant, lonely wanderings that I came across this. Somehow it seemed to fit us, love, and in this Christmastime, I'd like you to have it and the memory I've carried with me every day since I lost you. _

_By the Sea_

_I dreamt of us last night, living in the little stone cottage by the sea, the one you promised me. Our love held_

_together by wrinkled hands as we slowly walked across ever sinking sands. Each languid step taking us closer_

_towards our very last sunset._

_It wasn't 'till I was fully awake that I truly woke up._

_I suddenly realized it's no coincidence the two middle letters in life are 'if'. For every action we make, there is_

_a reaction. The outcome often beyond our control, fragile and fraught with ruinous consequences. Like a soap_

_bubble made real by a gentle breath only to be taken by it._

_If you had stayed here, in my trembling arms, would our fingers not be pricked by the thorns of red roses?_

_And what if our love could have stood up to the storm, standing strong, like our cottage by the sea?_

_If only…_

_~ Michael Faudet_

Suzanne's eyes were blurred with tears as she read and reread it over and over again. It was so beautiful and so very sad…it was them. She wiped the tears from her face and noticed that there was something else in the envelope. She reached in to pull out a weathered, dog-eared photograph, one that had been folded, and tucked away for a long time.

Her throat burned and her chest tightened. It was the picture that was taken two years ago as they sat by the Seine eating and drinking wine after a day of walking through Paris. They were laughing, and smiling, she could see the way he was looking at her, and how happy she was- it was two people that were falling madly in love.

He'd kept it close all this time.

She was sobbing at the way her heart was aching. It was as if she was coming back to life again, and the strength of the love was cracking through the ice cold walls that she'd put up the day he left. The ones that she hoped would never again let her feel the agony of loss.

But in that action she' cursed herself to a life of nothingness, a black and white existence in a Technicolor world. But he brought her back. He fought her tooth and nail every step of the way and refused to give up on her. In that moment everything became so very clear to her, Edward was it.

She echoed his words from the other night, he _was_ it for her. There would never be another.

Suzanne curled up with her picture and her poem and closed her eyes. She wanted to be here until he came back in from the barn, and she wouldn't wait another moment before she told him exactly how she felt.

That was her Christmas present to herself, that she would be honest for once and let her heart lead instead of her damn head.

:o:o:o:o

It was almost completely dark outside when Suzanne finally heard heavy steps on the stairs. She opened up her eyes to realize that she'd completely fallen asleep in the guest room and had been out for the entire afternoon. The small electronic clock beside the bed told her that it was a little after five.

She quickly sat up and smoothed out the sides of her pony tail and swiped under her eyes to make sure that her makeup wasn't a mess.

Her heart was racing as she neatly folded his letter and put the picture on her bedside table with a giddy smile. A kid at Christmas didn't begin to describe what it felt like.

She stood up and walked to the foot of the bed and waited until he walked into the doorway. He flinched instantly as his grey eyes scanned the shadows and instantly lit on her, no doubt from his training.

"What are you doing, love?" He asked quietly, his voice was calm and soft, so very different than she'd heard only hours ago.

So many thoughts went through her head to answer his simple question, but her heart settled on the easiest one, "Waiting for you." It was said in a breathless exhale as she crossed the room in two steps to grab his neck and pull his face down to meet hers as she took his mouth in a hungry kiss.

Eames froze for a moment, startled by her aggressive actions, but his body responded before his brain could process what was happening. He brought his hands up to cup her face as he parted his lips to her insistent tongue. She was bold as she kissed him with her pent up passion and sadness, her lips tongue and teeth demanding his intensity to match hers.

He pulled away panting heavily as her nimble hands moved down his strong chest to the hem of his shirt and began to pull it up. "I'm filthy and I smell disgusting, love," He gasped as her lips latched onto the sensitive skin of his neck, sucking the flesh in a biting nibble.

Suzanne groaned as she tasted the salty sweat on his neck, the prickle of his growing facial hair scraping across the plump skin of her lips. It mingled with the remnants of the musky cologne he was wearing and the smells of the barn and hard work, to create a cocktail of pheromones that she was unable to resist. He smelled like a man, and the very essence of her femininity responded with a rush of instant arousal.

Her primitive brain overrode any logical thought, and left her with nothing more than the basest feelings, that this male was dominant, strong and powerful, and she was to submit to him.

"I don't care," She whispered as she lifted off his damp white t-shirt and immediately kissed the firm muscles of his chest. She grabbed him by the belt and pulled him to the bed as she stripped off her own shirt, jeans, bra and underwear in seconds.

Suzanne quickly walked to the open door and closed it, thinking for a moment that she wanted to turn on the light to see him when she made love to him, but in the end her need outweighed her current thoughts. She came back to him and stood in front of him, naked as the day she was born.

Her voice was trembling and he kept very still until she spoke, "Make love to me. Please, I need you. I want you to touch me everywhere, make me feel _everything_."

Eames swallowed hard and closed his eyes as her delicate fingers undid his belt and his jeans as he toed off his boots and socks. "Annie," he said as emotion welled up in his throat, choking him. "I'm sorry for what I said, for how I treated you…for leaving you…"

"Shh," She breathed as she climbed up onto the bed and reached out to pull his body to meet her. His warm, solid frame molded perfectly as she lay back and let him settle on top of her. His forehead rested against hers and the entirety of his strong form, pressed against every inch of her body. She felt him grow, so impossibly hard and large against her stomach and the crux of her thighs. "_I_ need to apologize for hurting _you_, I should never have…you're nothing like…" Her voice broke and she could feel the tears come.

He kissed her cheeks reverently to take away her sadness. "I'm a damn fool and a coward," He whispered as he took her lips in a slow, deep kiss before continuing. "I was too scared to stay and I left you to face it all alone…I was terrified I couldn't be the man you deserve, Annie…you are so far above my pathetic blackened soul…so good…pure…and I lost you…"

Suzanne could feel the hitch in his chest and she knew even in the darkness that he was crying too. She reached up to gently cup his face with her palm as she pressed her mouth to his sweetly. "I'm here with you now, you never lost me. You couldn't." She paused for a second, and suddenly her feelings coalesced into words as her heart spoke out loud. "I love you, Edward. I've always loved you, I never stopped."

Eames could feel his entire body respond to her, the ache and wonder in his chest at the sound of_ his_ name on her lips surged through his manhood making him desperate to claim her. He reached down between her legs to touch her and, he whimpered at the blessed warmth and slick honey that he found all over her swollen skin.

She gasped at the sensation of his fingers barely caressing against her, and while any other time she would _never_ have put him off touching her, there was only one part of him that her body called out for. "I need you inside me," She said in a husky pant, "Please."

It felt like a dream. Eames _knew_ he was dreaming, because something so wonderful could never, ever be meant for someone like him. But if it was a dream he didn't want to wake up. He would be content to stay here forever, wrapped up in her arms. He groaned as her hands slid down his sweat-slicked back to palm his ass, encouraging him to cant his hips back and let his hardness slide down her wet center and line up with her sweet opening.

On instinct alone he pushed forward to breach her and slide into her depths, and suddenly he was there.

It was heaven. Warm, snug and so soft… he was home.

Suzanne's loud moan snapped him back to reality and he reached back to wrap her long legs around his waist as he began to move in a long, slow rhythm. Dragging his sensitive cock, across the velvet softness of her inner walls as his hips mashed against hers to keep constant, grinding friction on her clit. He leaned down to kiss her as she kept moaning and crying out with every move he made.

"Love," He managed to speak coherently, "You're getting loud."

She laughed, through the overwhelming emotion in her body every nerve ending was surging with feeling and all consuming love, "I can't sto_ohhh…" _Suzanne bit her lip hard to stifle herself as her body, starved for his contact for so long, was already racing towards climax. "You feel so good…_mmm_, harder,_ God_, _Eames_, harder…"

He was trying desperately to stay in control as her needy words lit him on _fire_. But he knew if he really started fuck her like she wanted, it would be over for him in a matter of seconds.

"I need you," She mumbled incoherently as her legs lifted up and spread wider to take him even deeper, "Harder, baby, please."

Eames was shaking as he felt his lower body warm and tighten, his orgasm threatening to break, "I can't…" he gasped in an agonized whisper his voice dark with passion and lust, "I'm going to come, love."

"_Come_," She urged him on as she locked her legs around his waist and began to thrust back hard against him. "I'm so close; let me feel you- _now_."

He rose up on his elbows and knees to get the leverage and strength he needed, before he let himself loose. His hips snapped hard, burying himself to her very limit over and over again. He could feel her nails digging into his shoulder as her legs began to shake and more and more wetness gushed out to coat his staff. The climax suddenly hit him so hard it almost made him howl out in pain.

Indescribable pleasure tore through him as his essence spilled hotly into her welcoming body. But somehow he blindly kept pumping into her, not faltering on the fast pace, unwilling to stop until he'd given her the same soul-shattering bliss she'd given him.

Suzanne finally arched her back moments later and bit down on his shoulder to muffle her voice as she wailed out. She came undone- and _God_, it was amazing. To feel her insides clench and release in a spastic wave, squeezing his completely spent, yet still sensitive and hard flesh.

He felt reborn.

Eames wrapped his arms around her tightly and kissed her face over and over again in small, gentle pecks. He never wanted to let her go.

He could feel her shiver and he lifted his head to try to see anything in the dark, "Are you cold, my darling?"

"No," Suzanne answered, unable to hide her smile as she leaned over and stretched to reach the bedside table to turn on the lamp on the dimmest setting. The lamp cast a warm glow on his handsome face, and she couldn't help but feel her heart melt at the look of devotion in his grey eyes. He was _there_, with her and vulnerable in the moment. My God how had she lived these past two years without being with him like this?

Her eyes guiltily went to the open envelope on the table, "I'm amazing, and apparently a thief as well."

He looked at her completely perplexed until he noticed the paper on the nightstand, "Opened my present early, hmm?" He smiled warmly and pressed his soft lips to hers in another slow, deep kiss, "Now what will I give you on Christmas morning?"

She slid a smooth calf suggestively up and across the taut muscle of his ass, "Oh, I'm sure that you'll think of something to give me that I've wanted all year. I've been such a good girl."

Eames chuckled and dropped his mouth to her ear, loving the way he was still completely buried in her feminine embrace. "I don't know, I think you've been very naughty lately." He felt her shiver again and he swore he could feel arousal in his veins. "Prancing around in those tight suits, with that insane negligee underneath, you have no idea the debauched things you've made me think."

Suzanne could feel herself being turned on again, like a pot of warm water that only needed a little heat to start it simmering once more. "Mmm, and all this time I thought that I was being nice to you."

He suddenly went completely serious as his voice dropped in volume, but ratcheted up in intensity. "Did you like it?"

"I loved it, Edward." She answered him sincerely. "It was perfect."

She could see a glistening in his eyes and he coughed once before speaking, "I feel like I'm crushing you." Before she could protest he rolled over and deftly pulled her with him so she was now straddling his prone form.

Suzanne squeaked in surprise at the abrupt change in position, feeling an incredible sense of loss when his member slipped out. But as she settled on the beautiful expanse of his inked chest, she quickly felt better about everything. She stared down at the pictures, ones that she had committed to memory, like the theatre masks and the Union Jack, that now seemed to have infinitely more meaning, and also ones she hadn't seen before.

Her eyes lit on a large, black raven below the flag on his right pectoral. "That's new," She whispered as she traced it gently.

Eames laughed with a self-deprecating chuckle, "I'm afraid I strayed from my Oscar Wilde inspiration for happy excess and lived a little more like Poe's depressed melancholy when you were gone."

"Oh," She said quietly, her eyes scanning down his beautiful stomach as she sat up straight to get off of him and curl up at his side. Her hands trailed down with the momentum and she froze when a thick bar of inked gothic letters caught her attention. It was partly obscured by her thigh, and she cocked her head to the side to read it.

Her entire body froze and she stared at the letters like a simpleton, as if she couldn't comprehend what she was reading.

'_Till I die- SW _

"What is this?" Suzanne whispered as tears came to her eyes.

"I got it the day I read your engagement news in the paper," His voice rasped, thick with sadness. "I wanted to have something of ours that lasted forever. That even if I spent the rest of my life trying to drink away your memories and run from what I had done to you, I could never forget what we had...what we _have_. You're it for me, darling."

Her green eyes were full of tears and she knew that her face was red and blotchy from crying and the remnants of her passion. She had to look like a wreck. She lowered her head and Eames moved to sit up properly so he could cradle her face in his hands.

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, slamming the ribs with such force that he was quite sure that a fracture was due if it kept going. He could feel the fear in his body, the instinct to escape something this monumental, to stop himself before he said something that he could never take back. To say something and give something that he'd never allowed another soul before.

His mouth felt as parched as the desert and he coughed hard as he opened his mouth to speak and nothing came out. Finally he slid his eyes closed and concentrated on the feeling of her face in his hands and the memory of her soft body pressed tight to his, the sound of her voice as she confessed her emotions unapologetically, first in Paris and again tonight.

It finally gave him the courage he needed. His eyes opened slowly and he tilted her beautiful chin up so she could see him completely.

"I love," He breathed in as his throat clenched shut and tried again. "I love you, Suzanne."

The words were the last burst of warmth to thaw the dark iciness that had existed for so long inside her frozen heart. She sniffled and laughed as tears streamed down her face. "Look at me," she scoffed, "I've waited my whole life to hear that from the man I love and instead of smiling I'm sniveling like a damn mess. I must look terrible."

Eames kissed her gently on the cheeks, before touching her eyelids and her nose, "Nonsense. My love, you are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"I love you too."

"'Till I die, always."

Suzanne smiled and kissed him again, slowly at first, and then going deeper and deeper until she got the low, hungry growl from him that she was waiting for. She finally pulled her head back and leaned into his ear, "What do you say you and I go take a nice hot shower."

He grinned slyly, "I was _supposed_ to come up here to tell you that dinner was on the table in twenty minutes. What am I going to say to you mother?"

She bit her lip before she licked his playfully, "You really think she doesn't know?"

Eames laughed as he took her mouth again, "Of course she knows, love."

"I'll just tell her that you were giving me my Christmas present."

They both laughed as he maneuvered them off the bed and across the empty hallway to the shower. Suzanne refused to think of anything in that moment other than the man who held her close. Let the world crumble and crash around them, she refused to care, right now, tonight, there was only them.

* * *

**Alright, I know, 'I love you' on Christmas Eve is cliché…but it HAD to happen. They can't have THAT moment without saying it.**

**However, as these two know, nothing is as easy as it seems...  
**


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: Weekend lemon fluff…because really there is nothing better ; ). Mals, I blame you for most of this…(so you can all thank her).**

**But if you look really closely there are a few very obvious issues that are going to plague our happy lovers **_**very**_** soon. Damn dragons.**

**So this one probably isn't work safe, but meh, I like it that way. **

**Please, please read and review! It gives me love and it feeds the muse like nothing else. Thank you all for the support! ; )**

* * *

_Northborough, Massachusetts_

_2010_

* * *

The water flowed around them in a warm, steamy embrace and Suzanne sighed pleasantly as Eames' large hands, covered in soapy bubbles, slid all across her body. She leaned her head back against his shoulder and turned to his ear with a sly smile as he circled her breasts over and over again, palming them with firm squeezes.

"I think they're clean enough, Mr. Eames."

"Oh, I know, darling," His deep voice rumbled against her back. "But I've been fantasizing about them for so long; I hope you'll indulge me. You wouldn't deny a starving man the pleasure of thoroughly enjoying a first meal after two years, would you?"

Suzanne laughed, and his words suddenly became very interesting. Was he being facetious, or had he really not been with a woman since he was with her? She nimbly turned around to lean her long, black hair into the spray and reach for the bottle of soap to take a bit in her hands and rub it over his tightly muscled chest. Her fingers mapped the ridges and peaks, and she bit her lip as her green eyes slowly moved down to notice his body had started to respond to her touch. He was so beautiful there. Long, thick and so incredibly hard after only moments, it was funny to think of the undeniably masculine package as beautiful, but there it was.

And it was hers.

She let her hand trail down his abs to take hold of the straining, engorged flesh and looked up into his face. Eames' full lips opened to let a low groan escape as she used her soap-slicked palm to stroke him from base to tip. Suzanne stared up into his grey eyes as they began to close, her hand starting a teasingly slow rhythm. A feeling of indescribable possessiveness surged through her, this was hers- _he_ was hers. Suddenly she remembered the blonde woman he'd paraded in front of her in Vancouver, and a hint of anger and indignation surged through her. It was something primal and fierce at the thought that another woman had felt pleasure from this man.

"How many have there been since me?" She spoke lowly in a deep, throaty voice that she couldn't believe was coming out of her own mouth. She couldn't believe what she was saying, for fuck's sake _she_ was married to someone else! Eames stared at her with lust and awe in his eyes, as her free hand reached underneath to cup him with a delicate fondle; while the other continued to circle and work his cock.

Suzanne leaned in to take his plump lips in a deep kiss as his hands slid up her shoulders and cradled her face, fingers twining in her wet hair. He moaned loudly as she suckled the flesh of his lower lip and pulled away, staring at him with fire in her eyes. She wanted an answer.

"None," Eames whispered against her mouth with an almost desperate and shameless reverence, "Only you love, it's you or nothing."

She shivered at his tone, feeling her own body come to life with a burst of power. A strong throb radiated through her, centering between her thighs as a gush of her own moisture flowed out to mingle with the water that flowed across the heated flesh. But this was all about him, she knew that he had suffered in her absence, and now she had the ability to make him feel how much she loved him.

Suzanne tilted her mouth up to take his in another heated kiss as her hands stroked and moved, "Does this feel good?" She whispered wantonly, wanting to hear him.

"_Incredible_," He practically purred against her, his entire body vibrating with euphoria. "Darling, I'm done for…_God, _I'm going to come..."

She held her lips over his, not quite touching, but close enough that she could taste and feel the pants of air that rushed out of his mouth. She smiled as she felt him draw up in her hands and his cock harden into that delicious velvet covered steel, before he gasped and uttered a quiet growl as his orgasm hit.

Suzanne hummed quietly as she felt the evidence of his pleasure shoot out to cover her stomach in a feeling of warmth that somehow stood out as warm even in the hot water; it washed it away only moments later.

Eames rested his forehead on hers and smiled lazily, his voice was cheeky and blissfully dazed, "Was that _my_ Christmas present, darling? Because it was bloody fucking fantastic."

She smiled as she kissed him sweetly, "No, _that_ was because I wanted to do a good deed to make sure that I was on the nice list."

"Oh? Are you sure that's enough?"

"Good deeds count more than normal today," She explained as she leaned back and let the water completely rinse him off. "Besides, you'll get your Christmas present tomorrow."

Eames laughed at her logical reasoning and exacting explanation on such an absurd topic. It could have been the post-come haze that made him so giddy, but he honestly couldn't feel anything but mind-numbing contentment at the moment. He was finally here with her, close, perhaps even closer than they had been in Paris, and it was insanely wonderful. In fact the feeling that this was all a dream was nagging at him now more than ever.

His fingers were actually twitching to check him totem.

Suzanne touched his cheek gently, tilting his face up to meet hers, as if she understood what was bothering him. "You're not dreaming, Edward." She whispered. "I'm right here."

He laughed quietly as he realized that she was real. The complexity of their situation only served to further reinforce it. Yes, he had her back in his arms, but there were other issues at play; most notably the fact that he was planning on stealing information right under her nose without her knowledge.

She would be furious if she found out that he lied to her. But Cobb's children needed him. It was a catch .22 of the worst kind. He didn't want to hurt Suzanne, he loved the woman more than anything, but little Philippa and James didn't deserve to be punished for their father's sins.

There was _nothing_ he felt more strongly about. Children were innocent, pure, and that type of rare goodness in this dark world deserved to be treasured and prized. He knew what it was like to spend a childhood alone, and he wouldn't make Cobb's kids suffer that.

"I know, my sweet love." He mumbled as he kissed her again, "Just savoring the moment with you."

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne walked down the stairs a little while later, freshly showered and wrapped up in warm, flannel pajamas. Eames was right behind her and followed her as she peeked into the living room, and then the great room and the kitchen looking for her parents.

She made a face as they walked into the kitchen to see that there were two saran wrapped plates piled with a huge stuffed pork chop, mashed potatoes and steamed broccoli sitting in the oven with the oven light on.

"Where did they go?" Eames asked as she took out the plates and tested the temperature before popping one in the microwave for a minute to heat it all the way back up.

Suddenly a muffled and distinctly feminine noise echoed through the bottom floor of the house. Suzanne grimaced and tried to remain impassive as the noise continued. "My parents have a very…_loving _relationship." She explained slowly.

Eames laughed as her words dawned on him, before moving behind her to lean his mouth down to her ear. "And it would seem that you inherited your rather uninhibited moaning volume from her as well."

She blushed bright red at his words before smiling, "I thought you liked the noise."

"Oh I do, darling," He answered gently taking her earlobe between his teeth, "I've been playing the soundtrack in my head for the last two years every time I gave myself a hand."

Her pulse raced and she swallowed hard at the mental image of him doing that. Her own arousal began to rise as she asked, "Was this a common occurrence?"

He teethed her neck playfully, "Mmm, let's just say if the old adage were true I'd be blind as a bat."

Suzanne chuckled, "Well you and I would be sharing a seeing eye dog."

He kissed her neck gently over and over, "Not anymore, love."

She smiled happily as she reached up to the microwave to pull out his hot plate and nudging him back so she could put it on the table with a fork and knife. She nodded for him to sit down as she threw her own plate in the microwave quickly. The food smelled incredible, and Eames was already digging in heartily when she sat down beside him a moment later with her plate and two very full glasses of chardonnay.

"This is amazing," He said as he licked his lips. "Makes me wonder what in the world we are having for Christmas dinner. I can't imagine anything topping it."

Suzanne took a long sip of wine with a proud look on her face, "She's making something ridiculous no doubt that will have me fatter than I already have gotten in the past few days. I usually smell her starting breakfast at nine, and she goes right into making dinner right after. It's like the Olympics of eating. She's probably got dessert hiding around here already, she was baking all morning."

Eames frowned at her words, "Darling, for the love of God, I will not having you blaspheme in front of me. You are not overweight. In fact, I find you obscenely _under_weight these days." He drank from his wine and speared a piece of stuffed chop before he finished, "I want that round, beautiful ass back, and I'll be feeding you champagne and chocolates until I see it."

"Mmm, did you just love me for my ass?"

He grinned wolfishly from behind his glass, "Not at all, I love you for all that you are- I wanted to see you naked because of your ass."

:o:o:o:o

After dinner was finished and the plates were cleared, Suzanne stood up to refill their wine glasses when her parents suddenly appeared from their bedroom with telling smiles on their faces. She turned to them with a raised eyebrow and her mother mimicked the action.

"So, Suzanne," She said airily, "Who is this charming gentleman?"

It took her a moment to pick up on it, but he was faster. He stood up from the table and extended his hand to her father with a straight face. "Edward Eames, sir, nice to meet you."

Her father gave a small half-smile before he took his hand in a good, firm shake. "Allan Williams, it's nice to finally meet you Mr. Eames. What is it that you do for a living?"

"Ah, a little here and there," he answered honestly, "Haven't found that paying gig for classic literature yet."

Suzanne's mother reached out to take him in a nice strong hug, kissing him on the cheek. "It's so nice to speak to you in person."

Eames nodded and he felt a strange and very powerful emotion settle in his gut. This is what it meant to have a family. People that cared for you, that wished you well when you left for a trip, and worried about you until you returned. It was completely foreign, and yet something so wonderful he couldn't describe it. "Thank you, Mrs. Williams," He said as she stepped away.

"Pauline, Edward, call me Pauline." She added gently.

"If you insist, Pauline," He smiled at the banter that they had now used for the third time, as if it was a sort of inside joke between them.

The woman touched his cheek affectionately. "Did you like dinner?"

"It was amazing," He answered. "I was just saying to your daughter, I have no idea the spectacular meal you have planned for Christmas Day to top that."

A conspiratorial gleam lit up her green eyes and she shrugged. "Oh, it'll be nothing special."

"Yeah, alright, Mom," Suzanne interjected. "I completely believe you too."

Her father sighed as he walked over to the cupboard and rummaged for a moment before producing the bottle of fifty-year-old single malt Glenfiddich that only made an appearance for their traditional glass on Christmas Eve, "Ready for our evening glass?"

Suzanne nodded and he turned to Eames, "Do you care for scotch?"

"At times too much, sir," Eames said with a grimace.

He smiled as he grabbed three perfectly curved Glencairn crystal glasses and generously poured out the whiskey. Suzanne took hers and leaned over to the sink to get a little cold water on her finger before putting it over her glass and letting three or four drops fall off into her glass before licking off the excess absently. She was definitely not a "neat" drinker. Her eyes snapped up to see Eames staring at her with a ravenous look in his grey eyes at her unintended display. She sipped her drink slowly to try to give an excuse for the color that suffused her neck and her cheeks.

She tried to remember that her parents were standing in the room, but her mind could only go to the memory of the first glass of scotch that she shared with him at his flat in Paris. It was the first night that she spent with him, and the first night that he'd made love to her.

Thankfully her mother must have somehow sensed the tension in the room, because as she poured herself a big glass of wine she suggested a movie. "I want something romantic this time," She added leveling her eyes at her husband. "And before you say it, Casino Royale is not what I am suggesting."

"I think James Bond is very romantic, honey," he answered. "After all it is through love that he becomes the character we all know. Eames, help me out here."

His eyes widened in shock and he took a deep breath, "Ah, well, I agree sir. Is there anything more romantic than a roguish playboy English orphan full of disdain and sarcasm who finds a woman to melt his heart?"

"Titanic." Her mother answered. "I haven't seen that in a very long time, and it was Suz's favorite in college."

Suzanne blushed, "Mom that was every female under seventy's favorite movie in '97."

"Not true," She countered as she pulled out her cast iron Dutch oven and a jar of popcorn seeds, "Your Grandmother loved it and she was in her eighties."

"It's a tough argument when you bring her into it." Her husband relented as he gave her a loving kiss on the cheek.

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne felt like she was in high school again, watching a movie with her parents chaperoning. Granted the massive sectional sofa had them plenty far enough away, even if you counted the two dogs between them, but she still felt awkward cuddling with a man that wasn't her husband in front of them. Granted it was a ridiculous thought considering the fact that she already had a huge scarlet letter that was practically glowing on her chest from this afternoon, and her office the other day, and her car the day before that. And that didn't even count the hundreds of times that she fantasized about him in her marital bed when she was alone.

Eames, as usual, seemed to have no issue. He simply grabbed one of the warm fleece blankets off the back of the sofa and gently pulled her arm until she was stretched out in front of him, back to front, and he covered them with the blanket as he held her to him.

She sighed in complete contentment, feeling his solid body all around her, clean from the shower and smelling of his deodorant, he smelled like comfort. Her hand reached out to pull over the small end table with one of the big bowls of buttery, cheesy goodness that was her mother's homemade popcorn. She always bathed it in butter and parmesan cheese…and it was perfect.

"Care to share, love?" Eames whispered in her ear as he leaned down and let her feed him. He chewed and quickly leaned in again to take her thumb between his lips to lick off the butter and salty cheese that was stuck to it, before repeating the seductive move to each one of her fingers.

Suzanne tried to bite her cheek to keep from making any noise, especially when, from the hidden area beneath the blanket, she could feel him start to harden against her backside again. It was with the sort of iron will that she didn't know it was possible to possess that she turned her attention to the movie.

:o:o:o:o

It wasn't long before she realized the irony behind the evolution of Rose's character and herself. She half wondered if it was pathetic the way her life was paralleling the movie. All they needed was the sinking ship, though she had a feeling divorce from Richard Jensen was going to be just as terrifying. It was funny, she didn't even think of any other outcome. A week ago she was married and reasonably content to ignore her feelings, but now, it was impossible.

She felt a tear slide down her cheek as the old woman described herself, _"Outwardly, I was everything a well brought-up girl should be, but inside I was screaming."_ It reminded her of her wedding day when she was sitting in the library of the chateau dreading the moment that she should have celebrated. She'd always pictured it to be the happiest day of her life, but instead she felt like she was being led off in satin, silk and taffeta chains. She had sat for a long time, praying for him to come. She had hoped beyond all hope that somehow Eames would burst in to save her.

Like Heathcliff waltzing in after three years absence to bring Catherine's world crashing down around her. She dreamed of him falling to his knees and confessing his undying love and she would have stood up in her huge white wedding dress and literally ran off across the manicured grounds of the estate hand in hand with him, laughing every step of the way.

_Ugh_. Did she just have a positive association with that book?

She shook her head and leaned back against Eames as she pillowed her head on his bicep and smiled.

Three hours into the movie, she remembered why she liked it so much. She was trying to be emotional quietly, but she could feel him shift and the hand of the arm that she was resting on would stroke her hair every now and then. But it was when the rich, spoiled and basically Richard Jensen if fictional form, Caledon Hockley grabbed his fiancé and screamed at her that Suzanne felt it all.

"_Where are you going? Back to him? To be a whore to a gutter rat?"_

"_I'd rather be his whore than your wife."_

She trembled as she started to cry, feeling like a foolish girl. But damn it if it wasn't her life.

Eames reached across her to cup her face and bring it up to his mouth for a kiss. Suzanne looked over at her parents, who were fast asleep, before she relaxed completely. His lips were softly suckling hers in an insistent tug, before he opened his mouth wide to swipe his tongue in deeply.

He could tell that she was thinking about her husband, and what would happen to her when she went home. But he wanted none of it. Right now he wanted her to relax and be with him, there would be so much time in the very near future for the both of them to fight against everything that was going to try to keep them apart. He felt her reach up to grab the back of his neck and pull him in closer. Want and desire thrummed through his blood stream, laced with the scotch, it created a very powerful combination. He was hard as a rock and feeling her ass pressed against it wasn't doing anything to take his mind off of it. It had only been hours since he'd been with her last, but it was already too long.

"Let's go to bed, love." He mumbled against her mouth.

She nodded and they slipped out from underneath the blankets, turning off the TV and grabbing their glasses and the empty popcorn bowl to drop it off in the kitchen before walking upstairs. Eames followed her closely and felt her hand reach out to take his as she passed the door to the guest room and instead walked into her bedroom.

It was lit by the light of the nearly full moon outside, casting the room in an almost ethereal glow. His heart was pounding with excitement, looking around to see everything from her wonderful life scattered all around them. It was always some sort of dirty little fantasy he'd had to take her here. To have the woman underneath him in her own bed, to be with her in a place that once would have been forbidden and taboo not too long ago, even the fact that they were two consenting adults didn't dim the fact that it felt naughty. And he loved it.

She untied her pajama pants and slid out of them before pulling off the boxy top. She was left standing in front of him in nothing but her plain, very functional white cotton panties. She slithered back onto the bed and lay back as she freed her hair from its ponytail, creating an ebony pool around her. Her green eyes looked up at him as she beckoned him with a sultry stare.

He couldn't stop looking at her. She was like an angel. Acres of pale skin that glowed in the light, long graceful limbs that he could already feel wrapped around him, and two perfect breasts. They were smaller than they'd been in Paris, but no less flawless, still topped with two of the most delicious pert nipples he'd ever seen. Eames shucked his clothes and joined her on the bed, immediately dipping his head to take one of the taunting pink buds into his mouth with an eager suckle. Suzanne's instant arching response had him smiling against her as he continued to feast on her.

Her little whines began to escape and he knew that he had her completely liquid with lust. His hands splayed out to nearly span the width of her slender waist as he sat up to let his fingers slowly grip the elastic top of her panties and slowly pull them down inch by inch until she was completely bare before him.

"Beautiful," he mumbled as he slid down on the bed and grabbed her hips tightly. He didn't give her a moment to think or move before he brought her dripping wet flesh to his mouth like the juiciest fruit. Eames groaned as his tongue tasted her, tracing the soft folds and delving inside to where the honey sweetness was more intense. He'd never grow tired of eating her like this, and as his tongue slithered up her center to tease the hardening nub at the top of her sex, the gasp that she let out, let him know that she wouldn't either.

Suzanne licked her lips and writhed under his ravenous attention, and even as her own body was getting primed to explode, she wanted to please him too. She looked down to see him between her thighs with his eyes closed in rapture as he gently stroked the pale legs that wrapped around his head. Oh, yes, she wanted to see him lose his mind. In a quick move that surprised him, she sat up and grabbed him to push him flat on his back.

"Not to your liking, love?" He asked with a quirked brow, his chest heaving with need.

"Mmm," She hummed as she straddled his stomach and settled her soaked, hot flesh against his body. "Does that feel like I didn't like it?"

Eames' breathed hard through his nose to muffle the noise that wanted to burst from his chest. Suzanne took the hint and leaned forward to come to meet his lips, "Lay back and don't touch me, I want to make you crazy."

"Darling, I'm afraid I'm already there," He whispered as she dragged her slick body down and up to pin down his raging cock. He bit his lip as he trembled with desire for her, "Certifiably fucking insane."

She smiled as she used the slick moisture coating them to maneuver her hips to swallow him whole. His thick length slid all the way in, and Suzanne moved until her hips were flush with his, completely impaled on the rigid flesh. She could feel him everywhere. It took her body a moment to adjust to the overwhelming sense of fullness and her nails instinctively curled into claws, digging into the muscles of his abdomen.

Eames hissed with a heady combination of pain and extreme pleasure as his own hands fisted into the bed sheets until his knuckled turned white. His head leaned back onto the pillow and he clenched his jaw- he needed her to move. She was so tight and so wet, he was going to burst. His mind was spinning; he wanted to whimper like a wounded animal, everything in him was raging with the instinct to thrust his hips into her sweet body, to give way to the urge to mate hard and fast.

Suzanne could see the arousal take completely take over her lover's body. It was indescribably erotic to see him surrender so completely to the passion between them, and that feeling reinforced her own body's need. She let her head fall back as her hips began to roll against him in a fluid, strong ride. He felt so _good_, and it wasn't long before her hands scraped down his body to touch her own. Her palms moved up her thighs, across her tight, flat stomach before she grabbed the soft skin of her breasts, gently tugging the sensitive peaks that were beginning to harden and strain outwards for contact.

"_Yessss_," Eames suddenly moaned and she looked down to see him staring at the way she was touching herself and moving on him with fire in his eyes. "Just like that, love, tease yourself. Let me see it."

Her mouth fell open in a gasp as a particularly perfect swipe of her clitoris against his pelvic bone sent a jolt from her head to the tips of her toes. It was enough to fill her voice with a ragged, fierceness and drive her to ride harder, bobbing up and down in a swift bounce. "Do you want to touch me?"

He nodded and she snarled her lip, "What if I told you that you can't? That you have to beg me for it." Suzanne blushed at her own words and her boldness, cursing the damn liquor in her blood. She couldn't believe what she was saying to him.

It only took her momentary hesitation for Eames to pounce. He grabbed her hips tightly and somehow managed to sit up, turn, throw her down onto her back, and before she could even realize what was happening, he pushed inside her with a powerful thrust.

He'd let her take charge this morning in the shower, and played her little game long enough tonight…but now it was time for the alpha male in him to claim her. _He_ was in charge now, and he'd take her there like only he could.

Eames leaned down to her face as he threw her long legs over his broad shoulders, effectively pinning her wide open and answering with a growl of his own. "You want me to beg for it? Is that what you want?" His hips began a punishing rhythm, his cock working every inch of her trembling wet core with precision. Suddenly his lips went to her ear and his voice dropped to that low, honey smooth tone that made her shiver and burn and the same time, "Please, love. Please, let me touch you. Please, let me _fuck_ you. I want to feel you come."

His hot words sent a jolt of crackling electricity surging down her spine. Suzanne couldn't hold back; he was hitting her so hard and she was so wet. The sound of the impact echoed in the room, and she could feel her body begin to race to the edge. A pitiful whimper escaped her lips and Eames spoke again, this time saying words that somehow inflamed her even more that the wanton ones had.

"You own me, all of me, _always_. Mind, body and soul- I'm_ yours_."

Her heart seized in a chaotic beat as her body broke free at his declaration. She could feel herself coming harder than she ever thought possible. Her insides throbbing, coiling and clenching- it was so deep and hard that she swore she could feel her uterus actually shift and respond to the power of her orgasm.

Eames moaned sharply in her ear and one hand came down to grip her hip hard as the combination of his rapid pace and her body's powerful spasms literally pulled the seed from his body. He held himself in as deep as he could go as his body surrendered to pleasure, unable to do anything but release.

They both collapsed into a boneless heap as they came back down to Earth. Suzanne was trembling and panting, her legs numb as her insides still twitched and fluttered involuntarily. Her skin was so sensitive she could actually feel the pulse of his softening member. He released her legs from the prison of his shoulders and twined them around his waist as he wrapped her in a tight embrace.

"I love you," Suzanne whispered as her eyes slid closed. She felt nothing but calm and blissful contentment. For the first time in so long she felt as if a weight was lifted off her soul. She nuzzled his shoulder gently and sighed as he responded with a soft kiss against her cheek.

"Am I hurting you, my love?" He mumbled sleepily.

"No."

"Good," Eames answered as he smiled against her, "Because I don't want to move. You've absolutely destroyed me, darling."

They remained entwined in one another for a few minutes longer, before the cool December air forced them to wiggle under the shelter of the down comforter. But even after they climbed under the blanket Eames refused to let her go. He lay on his side and pulled her close to spoon behind her, the same way that they'd spent so many nights in the past. As they drifted off to sleep Suzanne swore that she heard her phone vibrating on her desk across the room. She knew that there would only be one person calling her this late, and when Eames' arms tightened possessively around her, she knew that he knew as well.

_Richard._

It was a reminder that it wouldn't be long before they had to leave this blissful sanctuary they'd made and face the real world. And she was dreading it more than anything.


	18. Chapter 18

**AN: Update! I have to say I am kinda bummed that Suzanne and Eames' peaceful little getaway is almost over… **

**But before it is, I give you this lovely bit.**

**Letting this out a little rough…cause I want to! Will revise if needed.**

**As always read and review…it is love ; ). Thank you all! Love you guys!**

* * *

_Northborough, Massachusetts_

_2010_

* * *

Christmas morning had Suzanne waking up to the wonderful warmth of Eames' body curled tightly around hers. She'd slept like the dead in his arms. But as she stretched her legs, she felt him stir and only a moment after that, the evidence of his body waking up twitched against her backside.

"Good morning," She mumbled sleepily as he rolled her to her back.

Eames smiled down at her with a haze of sleep in his grey eyes as well. "Morning, love," he answered as he lowered his mouth to take hers in a kiss, morning breath be damned, "Happy Christmas."

"Same to you, Edward," She answered as he snuggled them tighter with the voluminous comforter. "Waking up like this was just what I wanted."

A very serious look came across his normally calm features and he bowed his head to kiss her on the forehead. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this. My God, Annie, I'm so sorry. It's not going to be easy…" She cut him off with a deep kiss. She didn't want to talk about it right now. It was insanely complicated, and there was a very real chance that Richard Jensen could find a way to hurt them. He knew so many powerful people, and she was scared to death of what would happen when they returned to California.

"I don't want to think about it," She said quietly. "Please just make love to me."

"As you wish."

:o:o:o:o

Eames was standing in Suzanne's room as she was finishing drying her hair in the bathroom. They'd stayed in bed longer than they'd originally intended; for some blessed reason this morning he could go for _ages, _and he wasn't about to stop when he had her writhing and panting underneath him, her body gushing that honey sweet nectar all over them as he made her come for the fourth time.

Heaven on Earth.

Of course that sort of exertion required a little nap on his part after he had come so hard it was fit to black a man out.

But that perfect moment was not what he was thinking about now. He was instead standing in her bedroom, dressed up in a brand new pair of jeans, a lovely gray cashmere sweater and a white collared shirt that her mother left in the guest room this morning for him, as he contemplated betraying her. His phone was heavy in his hand as he stared at the FedEx envelope on her desk, weighted down with the massive diamond ring and wedding band that she hadn't worn since yesterday. It was only going to be a second, and it would be done.

Cobb's children flashed before his eyes and he moved quickly. With the fluid motion and expertise that could be expected from a master thief, he removed the ring and grabbed the envelope. He pulled out the five page contract and took pictures of all of it before replacing the pages and the million dollar paperweight. It took no longer than a minute and a half, maybe two.

He took a deep breath and sent an encrypted email to Arthur. As he pressed "send" he could feel the revulsion and self-hatred rising up from his gut. He closed his eyes and prayed that when she found out she would understand. That somehow she would know that he had no choice…that he _had_ to do it.

Eames slid his phone into his pocket as he walked across the hall to the guest room to grab his dress shoes and a quick spray of his cologne. It was the one thing that he knew that would improve his mood; the musky scent was like catnip for his darling Annie.

As if she knew what he was thinking, he caught her as she sauntered out of the bathroom in an emerald green demi-bra and matching pair of teeny lace boy shorts that had the bottom curve of her pale little ass cheeks peeking out and saying hello to him.

He instantly followed her back into her room as she threw on a _very_ fitted, delicate mohair turtleneck sweater that matched her underwear, and a slinky long black skirt that fell just below her knees. She slid on a sensible pair of black three inch heels and as she stood up, she looked back to see him leaning against the door watching her intently- or more aptly watching her ass intently.

"Got a good enough oogle, Mr. Eames?" She asked with a teasing smile. "Or should I just drop into a downward-facing dog?"

He chuckled as he bit his lip with a sly grin, "Mmm, you and I both know that if you bend over and touch your toes darling, I'm going to degenerate into a savage, tear off those pretty knickers, and mount you like an animal."

Suzanne's face turned a charming shade of pink that he absolutely adored, and she swallowed hard. He could see her green eyes, blown wide with lust and it took him everything in his body to remind her that they needed to go downstairs and see her parents.

Her voice was trembling as she walked past him, "God, Eames, you have no idea what you do to me."

He shook his head and grabbed her arm gently to spin her around and cup the side of her face. His thumb played across her soft skin and he stared at the effortless way she looked gorgeous with nothing more than mascara and a soft shimmer of pale shadow on her eyes. Even her lips were natural, flushed pink from her arousal alone. He couldn't help but take her mouth in a deep, passionate, but swift kiss.

"It's nothing at all compared to what you do to me, love."

:o:o:o:o

The two of them finally managed to make an appearance in the kitchen around noon, much to the amusement of her mother. She was standing contentedly at the counter, laying out various pots and pans for her side dishes as a mammoth standing rib roast could be seen through the light in the oven.

"Well, Merry Christmas to you both. It's so nice of you to finally join us."

Suzanne rolled her eyes as she stood at the Keurig making a cup of coffee for both her and Eames. "Merry Christmas, Mom." She answered as she leaned over to kiss her cheek.

"Well you missed breakfast, and lunch won't be for another two hours," She said as she started to count out potatoes, "But there are some English Muffins if you want to nibble on something."

Suzanne looked over at Eames who nodded at the suggestion and she tucked two of them into the toaster.

"Oh, before I forget," Her mother said calmly. "There is a package that came for you, honey. It's on the chair in the corner."

Suzanne could feel a sense of horrific dread as she turned around to see the square box in the corner that had come from a courier. She walked up to it as if it could contain something as horrific as a decapitated head, a la the movie _Seven_. It was her Christmas present from Richard. She pulled off the tape and fished through the packing peanuts to pull out a large, square box.

He gave her jewelry; just like he had the Christmas before that, and the birthday before that. She flipped open the box to see a beautiful Tahitian black pearl necklace and the matching earrings that went with it. The set easily cost over twenty thousand dollars. There was a note in with it, written in Richard's exacting handwriting.

'_For you my beautiful Pet- Merry Christmas. I saw these and thought they would look stunning with the red dress I've ordered for you to wear to the New Year's Eve gala. It will be waiting for you when you get home. ~ Richard.'_

Suzanne put the box on the table and crumbled up the card, tossing it in the trashcan as she walked back to the counter and prepared both of their coffees before putting one down in front of Eames. Her chest hurt and she wanted to cry. But she held it all inside. She could see his hands were balled into fists on the table and he stared off into space, finally taking a sip of coffee without a word.

It was her mother that finally broke the ice in the room in the only spectacular fashion that she was capable of. She took one glance at the distraught look on her daughter's face before she took a deep breath and turned back around to the stove. "Well, I guess he must have been confused about the pearl necklace you asked for."

Suddenly as it sank in, the coffee in Eames' mouth sprayed out across the table. He choked and sputtered as his face went bright red. Suzanne ran over and patted him on the back as she started to laugh hysterically. It took him a minute to get control of himself before he barked out a loud laugh, tears in his eyes. "Bloody hell, woman, you are incredible."

Her mother winked as she spun around with a paper towel to clean up the mess that he'd inadvertently made. "It's a talent my own mother perfected. If you can't get a good one-liner in now and then what fun is life?"

Suzanne smiled and reached for the box as she tossed it back into the cardboard it came in before leaning down to Eames for a quick kiss on the lips, realizing that she didn't car in the least that she was openly having an affair. She'd made her decision. After the job, when Dom and his children were in the clear, she'd leave her husband.

:o:o:o:o

Two hours later the four of them sat down to a feast that was beyond anything that should have been able to come out of a farmhouse kitchen from one woman and a distracted, love-struck helper.

The spread was colossal. A standing rib roast that probably could have easily fed ten was done to a perfect medium rare, surrounded by side dishes of mashed potatoes, sweet corn, creamed spinach, asparagus cooked with bacon, and Memere's famous meat stuffing that was a staple at the Williams' holiday table. There was also a healthy supply of au jus to drizzle all over everything and a fresh basket of piping hot rolls.

Eames stared blankly at the meal thinking that it was an impossibility that a family like this existed outside of the Norman Rockwell cards that stereotyped traditional Americana. It was just mindboggling. He waited until Suzanne and her parents sat down, and then took the last empty seat- ironically at the foot of the table.

Her mother saw to it that everyone had a decently full glass of Cabernet Sauvignon before she sat back down and stared at her husband expectantly.

"What?" He grumbled as he reached for the carving knife.

"Shouldn't we say grace? We have a guest." She answered pointedly.

"Well then let the guest say it," He answered matter-of-factly. "I think it's a fair request."

Suzanne piped up, "Dad, honestly, I don't think it's fair to put him on the spot like that. I mean he's new to being here for the holiday and he might celebrate it differently than we do. It isn't fair to ask him."

Her voice was nervous and Eames could tell instantly that she was concerned about him; perhaps worried about the sort of hideous Christmases that an orphan-boy from jolly old England was forced to endure. It wasn't spectacular by any stretch of the imagination, but it wasn't exactly a bleak Dickensian, "Please, Sir, I'd like some more" hell either.

"I'm fine, darling." He answered quietly. "It would be an honor to give something to your family."

"See," Her father said. "Man's just fine." Suzanne's mother narrowed her eyes at him and reached out to indicate that everyone should take hands.

Eames thought quickly, pondering any number of prayers and the such that he'd said in schools over and over again, but for one reason for another, saying a religious invocation felt odd. He finally settled on something he'd read somewhere in his travels. He cleared his throat lowly and bowed his head.

"For what we are about to receive, let us be truly thankful. To those who planted the crops, to those who cultivated the fields and to those who gathered the harvest. Let us be truly thankful to those who prepared our meal and those who served it. In this festivity let us remember too, those who have no festivity. Those who cannot share this plenty, those whose lives are more affected than our own; by war, oppression and exploitation, those who are hungry, sick and cold. In sharing in this meal, let us be truly thankful for the good things we have, for the warm hospitality and for this good company."

Suzanne squeezed his hand gently and smiled as her father nodded in approval and her mother beamed. "That was just beautiful, now please, as the guest, dig in."

:o:o:o:o

Dinner was incredible. The four of them sat around the table talking and laughing for the better part of two hours about everything and anything. Suzanne had to prematurely end several discussions that her father brought up about her as a little girl. She was admittedly a wee bit of a trouble maker, and she really didn't think that it was necessary for Eames to hear the way she'd managed to pitch a round ball of horse manure at the head of the star quarterback of her high school football team after he'd cornered her in the barn after school and got a little handsy.

"My, my, you have always been such a lady." He teased with a sly smile, his grey eyes sparkling.

"I am a lady," She protested as she demurely sipped her wine. Her heart fluttered when he kept staring at her, his plump lips were moist from where his tongue had darted out to lick them clean, and she couldn't stop staring at him like he was dessert.

"So," Her father interrupted the lover's heated moment with one word, and Suzanne almost cringed at the tone. "I have to ask, just what is it that you two are doing with one another? I mean an idiot can see that you both are ass-over-tea-kettle in love. But Suz, have you given thought to what is going to happen when you get back to LA? Your mother and I just want you to be happy."

Suzanne stared at her empty plate and frowned. She felt awful. But at the same time her self-confidence and her sense of right about her life came back to her with a strength that she didn't expect. She knew what she wanted. "I'm…I'll be getting a divorce. I have to contact my lawyer because I have no idea how the hell I am going to do this, or how long it is going to take. But I'll be fine."

Eames reached out to take her hand, threading his fingers through hers. "Whatever she needs, I will be there, sir."

Her mother smirked and stood up to clean her plate, "Just remember honey, I have plenty of friends at the IRS. You'll be just fine."

:o:o:o:o

They cleaned off the table and Suzanne ran up to her suitcase in her bedroom to pull out a Christmas card for her parents. They generally didn't exchange gifts any longer, but this year she'd found something that was perfect. Both of her parents had always wanted to see where their families had come from. Her mother had traced the Williams line to Wales, and her family, the Dusablons, were from somewhere on the northern coast of France near Calais.

Suzanne had bought them a two week vacation for the upcoming May to explore the areas in style, and had even contacted a genealogist that would help them do research.

She was beaming as her parents both stood there speechless staring at the gift.

"You didn't have to do this, kiddo." Her father said quietly.

"I know, Dad. I just wanted to let you and Mom do something for yourselves for a change. You busted your butts for me so I could see the world; it's time that I return the favor."

:o:o:o:o

Eames was standing in the corner appreciating the scene of family togetherness when the phone in his back pocket started to vibrate. He casually pulled it out and noticed a text from Arthur.

_I have to say I am impressed, Eames. Good work. This should be a decent start._

He raised his brow; the man was even condescending in text format.

_As always I endeavor to earn your patronizing approval, Arthur, thank you._

It was another moment before his phone buzzed again.

_I give it when it's due. Now, I'd like to schedule a meeting tomorrow morning with you to see what you've managed to glean from what is going on._

Eames smirked; he was not going to be happy about this.

_I'm afraid that's impossible old boy, I'm in Boston at the moment and won't be back on the West Coast until tomorrow afternoon. But after that I'd love to meet up._

He barely hit send before the response ticked up.

_What the hell are you doing in Boston? _

_Suzanne went home for the holiday._

_For the love of Christ, are you _stalking_ her? We need her to help us Eames and she's not going to if you keep bothering her! Time to back off and check your pride, you left and it's over. Get your head off your dick and think about Cobb._

Eames openly frowned at the point man's dressing down. Shows what that stick-in-the-mud knew, he wanted to write him back that at the moment he was contemplating where and when he was going to take her tonight. That he'd won her back and the minute this was over the two of them were going to take off together to enjoy the life that they never got the chance to start. Instead he settled on something needling that would piss him off on purpose.

_I didn't know that the affairs of my cock are something you concern yourself with, Arthur. Now I am a little worried that you may have taken my jovial tone all these years as flirting, darling. I have to let you know that my heart lies elsewhere and with the fairer sex…does Ariadne know about your preoccupation?_

He laughed when the only response was:

_December 27__th__ seven o'clock pm, Pier 36 at the Port of Los Angeles, bring Suzanne._

The jibing text was enough to put him in a better mood for the time being; although his gut was still bothering him. He wanted to tell her what was going on…but he knew that it was better to leave it be until they were back on the West Coast.

She deserved to have Christmas with her family.

:o:o:o:o

Around five, with the massive weight of the feast still settling in their stomachs her mother produced her dessert, a homemade pumpkin cheesecake with a gingersnap crust.

Suzanne groaned at the thought of eating more and suggested to her father that she wanted to take a walk down to the barn and feed the horses before she stuffed more food into her own face. Eames naturally offered to follow and after she quickly changed into a pair of jeans and her boots, they threw on coats and walked the snowy path down to the barn together.

She moved stall to stall and grabbed the feed buckets, carrying them all to the small tack room on the end so she could scoop out a measured amount of oats for each animal. She was lost in thought, and absently stared up at Eames who was comfortably perched against the doorway.

There were so many questions swirling around in her head, so many things that she wanted to know about him. She nibbled her bottom lip and took a deep breath. He seemed to sense the anxiety and her odd mood immediately.

"You can ask me whatever you'd like, darling."

She smiled at the way he read her mind again. "I guess, since I've spent the last three days with mine, I'm wondering what happened to your parents." When he stared down at the floor she instantly amended her comment, "You don't have to say anything. But I just wanted to know where you came from."

Eames laughed to himself before he looked up to meet her nervous stare. "You don't need to walk on eggshells, love. Despite my little tantrum yesterday I assure you that I am actually very comfortable with my sordid past. I just don't particularly care for it to be public knowledge. I keep my business private."

"I understand," She answered.

"But you are hardly 'public', Annie love." He smiled at her warmly. "My Mum died when I was very little. Before two if I recall correctly, she was driving home from the market and a drunk ran a light. She was dead before she made it to the hospital. I was in the car; don't ask me how I survived. My old man never recovered. He wasn't particularly a nice fellow to begin with, he worked in one of the steel refineries and drank too bloody much, but I suppose he loved her. I guess he wasn't in the mood to raise his son alone. So he sent me off to a charming boy's home and there I remained until eight, when I went to Harrow."

His voice was soft and contemplative, like he'd come to terms with the words that he was saying. But it was still tinged with enough raw emotion that Suzanne knew that it still hurt. She supposed that one never got over something like that.

"What were their names?" She asked gently.

"Rachel and Charles of course, to which in the grand tradition of all things British, I owe my middle name."

"So you are saying our son will be stuck with _Edward_ for a middle name?"

She didn't even know what made her say it. The moment the words came out of her mouth Suzanne froze, completely mortified. Her face was bright red and she refused to look at him. But when she finally did, his grey eyes were burning with possessive fire. He suddenly strode towards her in two fast steps, letting a hand cup her cheek and another wrap around her waist to pull her to her feet as his mouth claimed hers in a fierce kiss.

A gasp of shock squeaked out of her as he tangled his fingers in her hair and he coaxed her lips open with a ravenous tongue. He backed her against the far wall of the stable and pulled away as his lips pressed against the shell of her ear with a low, husky, whisper.

"God, love, the thought of you like that- heavy with _my_ child..." Suzanne was trembling as he kissed her deeper, harder. Before pulling away and staring at her. "I need to have you right now."

Her mind was racing, "The hay loft, let me grab a blanket." Her words were desperate through the passion, and she was barely able to remember where her father kept the spare wool blankets that they used from time to time to rest the saddles on. It was not going to be particularly comfortable, but she really could have cared less at the damn moment.

She pulled a heavy blanket off a shelf and he held it for her as they practically tripped up the narrow wooden stairs to the loft. Suzanne quickly found a pile of hay that her father had neatly swept from bales that had broken so they wouldn't get mixed in with the fresh stuff.

Eames fluffed out the blanket and Suzanne was already kicking off one shoe, and in a rather undignified manner unbuttoning her jeans and sliding down her underwear off of one leg. He smiled saucily and stared at her as she lay down, all but what was necessary for bliss still clothed.

He took the hint, unfastening his belt and taking his pants down as he knelt on the coarse fabric in front of her. It was reminiscent of a lusty teenager's fantasy, shagging the farmer's gorgeous daughter half-dressed in the barn.

But as Eames took his straining hardness in his hand to guide it into her wet, warm body, he breathed deep to appreciate the beautiful reality of everything around him. The rustic smell of the hay, the rough feel of the wool underneath them, and the soft, sweet smell of Suzanne as she shivered from the cool air; it was wonderful.

He groaned with immense pleasure as he settled in her walls, lowering his body until they were completely flush with one another before he fought instinct to begin a slow, rocking motion. The deep roll was a sweet undulation, where he penetrated her to the limit before holding tight and withdrawing again.

Suzanne stared at him with wide green eyes, her lust and love written all over her face. Her free leg wrapped around his calf to hold him tight to her as she freely whimpered and whined her pleasure.

It wasn't long before he felt it; a shift deep inside her body as her velvet soft walls grasped him tight, encouraging him to empty his essence- to mark her as his.

A shaky breath filled her lungs before she exhaled in a moan, her arms squeezing him tightly as her core began to quiver and then pulse in time with her frantic heart. Eames held her as her gorgeous body pushed him to his limit. He kissed her as he hardened, unbearably so, and finally broke.

"Only you," He whispered as he let go, surrendering to the head to toe feeling of euphoria that raced down his spine, "Always, love."

Suzanne felt tears pricking at the corner of her eyes as she stroked the short hair on the back of his head, coaxing him to rest on her shoulder to they could be close again. They lay in perfect silence as their racing hearts quieted down to normal.

"I don't want to go back," She sighed. "Can't we just run away together?"

Eames chuckled and she could feel his full lips turn up into a smile against her sweater, "Darling, that's generally my M.O, and need I remind you of the _ruinous_ consequences? Besides, we can't abandon Mal's children. It'll be another week, maybe two and then we can disappear to wherever we want to go. I promise."

Suzanne's stomach tensed with anxiety at the thought of her husband. "What if he won't let me go, Edward? You don't know him like I do; he's relentless about everything in his life. This will be no different; he'll see it as a personal attack to his reputation."

"Shh, love," He soothed her gently. "I'm not leaving you, and I'm_ not_ scared of that wanker. Trust me when I tell you I have stared down the barrel of far scarier things than Dickie-boy's spoiled bitch temper."

She couldn't help but laugh at the dismissive way that he spoke about her husband. In fact she would pay everything she had for front row seats to watch Eames take him down a peg. A wry grin crossed her face as she spoke, "Mmm, see those scary things in your Special Forces days, _Major _Eames?"

He lifted his face from her shoulder and stared down at her smug expression. "Well, well, well. You _have_ been a busy little bee haven't you? Snooping around in all sorts of secret places looking for things about me."

"It wasn't easy."

"Her Majesty generally makes sure it isn't," He mumbled as he took her earlobe between his teeth. "I can still stand at attention for inspection if you'd like, Ma'am." She could actually feel her body reacting again, her entire pussy tingling at the hot tone of his rough voice. "And I'll have you know I _thoroughly_ follow _each _and _every_ order I'm given."

Suzanne gasped as she felt him slowly and miraculously begin to harden again, stretching her walls. "Then right now I want you to take me back to the house, carry me to my bed and fuck me over and over until the sun rises- _that's_ a goddamn order."

"Yes, Ma'am."

:o:o:o:o

They set a record feeding the animals and then sprinted back to the house. Suzanne gave a half-assed explanation to her parents about needing to take a shower from the grime in the barn before she and Eames ran up the stairs and locked themselves in her bedroom for the rest of the night. Part of her felt guilty about not spending her last night with them, but there would be many, many, more to come in the near future. The days of living thousands of miles from the people she loved were over.

There were certainly dark clouds on the horizon, but it didn't dim the passion they felt that night. He took her again and again, reveling in everything they'd rediscovered in the past two days. In those few hours before they fell into a blissful exhaustion Suzanne felt like the same woman who had stepped off the plane in Paris two years ago. She was calm and free.

Eames held her close in his arms just before the sun rose; in those precious minutes she treasured all of the things she thought she'd never have again. Suzanne sighed contentedly, letting the beat of his heart and the rhythm of his breaths lull her to sleep. She could never have dreamt of what they would have to overcome in the days ahead, and what had begun.


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: Sorry for the delay…I had a wonderful weekend trip to see my sister, but fear not the muse was working overtime. Apparently spending time in Virginia has piqued her interest…so stay tuned for a little something special. ; )**

**Suzanne and Eames are heading back to LA…and yeah…**

**Please, please, read and review…**

* * *

_Northborough, Massachusetts_

_2010_

* * *

It was the first time since she left for college that Suzanne was actually devastated to leave home. She had a non-stop flight from Boston to LAX that left at 4:30pm and arrived on the west coast at 7:50pm local time. Luckily they'd managed with a quick phone call this morning to get Eames on the same flight.

She stood at the front door with her bags packed and hugged both of her parents tight, trying to hold back the tears as she told them over and over again how much she loved them and how good it had felt to come home. Her mother was a wreck, bawling her eyes out and making her promise that she would come and see them in the spring, and even her father's face was red with emotion.

"And you," Her mother snapped as she pulled a surprised Eames into a tight hug. "I'd _better _see you this spring with her when she comes home."

"Yes, Ma'am," He answered as he let her kiss his cheek. "Thank you both again for the past few days, for the clothes, and your hospitality. I can honestly say that I have never enjoyed a holiday as much as this one. It was just wonderful." His voice had that strange bit of emotion in it and Suzanne smiled with the knowledge that his humble words were the truth.

They climbed into their respective rental cars and drove off to the airport. She tried not to cry as she looked out of her rear-view mirror to see her parents and the dogs on the porch. The farmhouse and the barn became smaller and smaller as she kept going, and she was choking back hot tears when it finally disappeared completely.

It had been her sanctuary for the past couple of days, an oasis of calm in a sea of turmoil and tribulation. It had been where she'd found herself again, and even though she would be the first one to roll her eyes at the sentiment, Christmas miracle were the words that came to mind.

She was smiling as she shifted in her leather seat to accommodate the slight bit of discomfort that radiated out from between her thighs from the eager attention she'd received as of late. It had been a long time since she'd felt it, and a devious little thought reminded her that they used to sit in the tub for hours to help soothe her in Paris. Of course more often than not they ended up making love anyhow.

Her phone rang noisily and she answered it without looking at the caller ID. "Hello?"

"Well, hello Suzanne." At the sound of the voice her entire body trembled with a cold shock. It was Richard. "I thought something happened to you, pet, I haven't heard from you for four days."

Suzanne took a deep breath to pull it together. "I'm sorry; I just spent so much time in the barn and with my parents that I fell asleep early at night, and yesterday I knew you would be busy so I decided to wait until I got home tonight." The lie rolled off her tongue like nothing and she hated the way that it sounded so completely contrived to her own ears.

"I see." He said absently. "Well I hope your vacation was worth the trip."

"It was," She replied with a smile. "And thank you for the gift it was lovely. I feel foolish that you won't let me get you anything."

"That's because _you_ are the gift, sweetheart." Richard answered, his voice turning to a low rumble. "When I get home, I'll be sure to enjoy sampling everything you have to give."

_Ugh_. A grimace twisted her face at the thought of his hands on her body, as if he was going to give her something even remotely close to what she deserved, it was just plain laughable. But suddenly it was as if Eames hijacked her tongue, she could feel her lips twist up into a smile before she spoke, "_Everything_? Are you _sure_, honey?"

"Within reason," he said with a laugh. "There are certain codes of behavior we have to uphold, we aren't savages."

"Of course."

Suzanne rolled her eyes. Yes, because God forbid they acted like animals and showed passion for one another. A shiver raced up her spine when she remembered Eames last night during the third or fourth time they'd had sex, he'd flipped her on her stomach easily and impaled her from behind with a growl, his hands were on her hips and his thrusts were powerful, and when he leaned over her back and put his mouth to her ear- the words he spoke were absolutely filthy. She literally exploded minutes later in a fierce orgasm that had her seeing stars in the darkness, and then he was nuzzling at her neck and whispering sweet nothings with those same lips as he came undone.

But we mustn't be savages.

She closed her eyes and sighed, once again absolutely loathing the fact that they were returning to Los Angeles. "So when are you going to be home?"

"Probably not until late on the 30th," Richard answered. "I have a business meeting with a very interesting new investor, but I don't want to exactly jinx myself either. So I'll keep that to myself. That little shit Robert Fischer is going to be at the gala, I'm hoping that you can use some of that charm of yours to get him to reconsider his lawsuit. Maybe convince him that he needs to take up yachting or something foolish like that."

"I'll try." She said as she stared out the windshield as the highway came into view. "I'm going to let you go, I'm about to get on the Pike and I don't want to be on the phone in traffic. I'll be home by eight tonight."

"Enjoy the flight, pet. I'll speak to you later."

"Good bye."

Suzanne hung up the phone with a huff and tossed it across the seat into her open pocketbook. It struck her just then that neither one of them said, "I love you." So that's where they were. She was a thirty-four-year-old woman in an absolutely loveless, passionless marriage- and she was having an affair with the love of her life.

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne stood on the sidewalk and shivered in the cool air as she watched Eames drop off his rental car and briskly jog across the parking lot in another cashmere sweater, this one dark brown, white collared shirt and blue jeans, that should have been her uncle's but somehow managed to fit him so incredibly well that she couldn't imagine them on anyone else.

He rubbed his hands together and slung his briefcase over his shoulder. "Bloody hell woman, let's get inside."

"Well it is December; a coat is generally worn this time of year." She smirked as she pulled her stacked luggage into the airport. It was funny to think that she'd packed his dirty suit in _her_ bag, meaning that she'd need to give it back to him at some point, perhaps when she drove him home. She bit her lip at the realization that if she went back to his place, she wouldn't be leaving tonight.

They walked into the terminal and meandered over to the ticketing counter to check her bag, print out boarding passes, and finally over to security. Suzanne couldn't keep from laughing out loud when Eames was pulled out of line to get a pat down. She watched as an older, heavyset black woman called for a supervisor. After waiting a minute or two she watched him with a patented smile as he inquired as to why the wait.

"Well, honey, you need a man to pat you down." She explained honestly, "Unless you want me to paw you good."

He laughed at the jovial way she made it sound like a reprimand with a salacious tone, and as was the only response he could give, Eames grinned. "I certainly will prefer your hands to a gentleman's, darling, have at it."

Suzanne rolled her eyes as the older woman cocked her head and looked over at her. "He belong to you, sweetie?"

She blushed and answered honestly, "I'm afraid so, I can't seem get rid of him."

"Mhm," the woman nodded as she patted down the sides of his chest and around the back to his ass, where Suzanne was quite sure she lingered a tad bit longer than was necessary before waving him on. "Well, can't say I'd lose him either, even if he is a little devil. All set to go sir, it _all_ checks out. Have a nice trip you two."

Suzanne laughed as Eames winked at the agent and grabbed his briefcase. "Pretty sure she just got a free juggle of the goods, love." He leaned over to murmur in her ear as they walked towards their gate, "Though as the bits were moving about I got to thinking, I don't think I've ever made the mile high club."

"And, what, you think I'm going to have sex with you in an airplane bathroom, Mr. Eames?" Heat was already suffusing her collar at the insinuation. There was no way she was going to do that. Absolutely not, the very idea was trashy. She had to repeat it over and over again, as her arousal began to awaken, and the skin between her legs warmed and dampened.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close as he leaned down to smile against the side of her face. "I'll settle for a quick bit of head."

She turned to look at him as her mouth dropped open in shock at his words. Well, she kept trying to tell herself that it was shock, and definitely not lust and desire at the thought of taking him like that in such a public place.

"I'd be glad to nibble on you as well, darling, but you've forgone a skirt today, and trousers might be too difficult to maneuver in such a teeny space."

Suzanne finally managed a coherent thought amidst the building lust in her system; but she paused for a second when a passing set of eyes in a business suit looked intently at the two of them snuggling close. A cold wash of reality came over her body and she stiffened in his arms. "I…I don't think you should be this close to me in public, Eames." She whispered. "What if someone recognizes me?"

Eames stopped suddenly in the middle of the busy terminal and pulled her body close before grabbing her face and taking her lips in a kiss. He coaxed open her mouth, and despite the fact that she was freaking out, Suzanne relented, letting his tongue in deep to twist and tangle with hers. He pulled away a few minutes later and stared at her with amusement and want in his eyes, "Then they see you with the man you love."

"Having an affair," She amended, the tone a bit harsher than she intended, but the concern behind her words were true. "I'm _married_, Eames, no matter how much you chose to ignore it and my reputation is tied to that. I'd prefer it if I wasn't dragged through the mud. I've worked very hard my whole life to be dismissed as a…"

"_Annie_," He interrupted her quietly, "I understand." Reluctantly he dropped his hand and put a few inches between them, his jaw clenched as he continued. "Just don't ask me to like it. I've spent two goddamn years thinking I'd lost you forever, and now that I have you, I don't want to spend even a moment without touching you. I'm a selfish bastard, darling, I'm sorry."

She could feel her throat tighten and tears stinging at the corner of her eyes. The raw and vulnerable emotion in his voice was enough to break her heart. Without a word she reached out with her hand to grasp his, twining their fingers together tightly. She smiled at the way his warm hand felt strong around hers, and she glanced over at his face and saw him staring down at their joined hands in fascination. "Let's grab a coffee, baby." She said gently.

:o:o:o:o

After a detour at Starbucks, where Suzanne talked him into a less than masculine peppermint latte with whipped cream, they made their way to the gate and sat down to share the decadent brownie that _he'd _talked _her_ into. She tried not to moan out loud as she took a bite of the fudgy little piece of heaven. It was a fact; her diet was a pathetic thought of the past at this point.

"Mmm, my God, I love hearing you. Only you can make food sound that deliciously naughty," Eames chuckled as he nuzzled her cheek and opened his mouth for his own little piece of dessert, which she gave eagerly.

"It's a good brownie," She answered matter-of-factly. "In the right circumstances I might lose it over something like this."

"Noted," He winked as he leaned in for another bite.

:o:o:o:o

The flight, for all of the dirty possibilities, was remarkably uneventful. Suzanne was quick to remind Eames that he'd kept her up all night the previous evening with his amorous attention, so it was perfectly acceptable for her to snuggle up against his shoulder and sleep for the entire six hours.

They landed on schedule, ten minutes before eight, and after collecting her suitcase they walked to the garage and found her car. She chewed her lip as she started the engine and he climbed into the passenger's seat without a second thought. It was the slam of the door that pulled her back to reality. She was in _her_ car- in Los Angeles. A heavy weight settled on her heart and it was as if she could feel Richard's control everywhere around her.

How had she lived here for so long? She'd been back for a grand total of fifteen minutes and already she was ready to get as far away from the smog and congestion as humanly possible. She sighed and pulled out of the garage and towards Culver City and Eames' apartment.

It took them a little over twenty minutes before he directed her to the very plain and almost cookie cutter complex that he was living in. Suzanne raised her eyebrow at the first the impressive looking sixty-something cougar in caked on makeup, a mini-dress and stilettos, and _again_ at the trail of poor middle aged men that were following behind her. She had to actively stifle the laugh that threatened to pour out; Arthur must have_ really_ enjoyed doing this to him. It was like camp divorce and desperate.

Eames caught the look on her face and gave her one of his own, squinting his grey eyes playfully. "I'll have you know that these are my people, and I would appreciate it if you wouldn't look down on us. It isn't easy being a divorcee intern who's madly in love with his married boss."

Suzanne scoffed as he gestured for her to pull into the parking space for apartment 206. "_Please_ don't tell me that's what you've been telling people!"

He shifted in his seat until he was facing her. "Nah, I haven't had the time to talk to anyone." When he saw the way a small bit of regret passed in front of her face, he pounced on it instantly, "Disappointed?"

"No."

"I think you are." He teased.

"I'm kicking you out of the car now so I can go home, Eames. We both have to be in the office tomorrow at seven in the morning."

There was still a note of playfulness in her voice, and he reached across the seat to grasp the back of her neck and pull it to his waiting mouth. He kissed her gently and pulled away, only giving her a hair's breadth from his beautiful lips before whispering. "You should come up, darling." He seductively let his tongue snake out to tease her upper lip in an overt display of lustful desire. "Come on."

"I can't, Edward." She mumbled as he began to pepper her face in little butterfly kisses. "I have to go home and shower, and get a good night's sleep."

"In that frigid palace, all alone? That doesn't sound like a relaxing night at all does it?" He questioned as he pulled her long hair out of her ponytail and buried his fingers in the silky strands. His hungry mouth went to her jaw line as he nipped and licked up to her ear, "Or, you could come up to my place, we could take a shower together, make love at least twice, perhaps _fuck_ once, and then call for awful Chinese takeaway, and make love some more. I think that will give you a fantastic night's sleep."

Suzanne was bright red with the promise of such a delicious night, and whispered in that velvet voice, she was just done for. She turned off the car and sighed in defeat as she groaned, "We need to talk about this, Eames."

"Ah, ah, ah, inside," He pressed as he pulled away and stepped out of the car, grabbing her suitcases and pulling them up the stairs towards his door, making sure to lean over the balcony and jingle his keys with a saucy wink as he walked into the apartment and left the door wide open.

She couldn't believe she was doing this. It was like some sort of scene out of the movie _Unfaithful_. But who was she kidding; there was no way that she wasn't walking up those stairs. She huffed in defeat as she hopped out of the car and locked it, before jogging up after him and into the apartment as fast as she could to remain invisible.

Suzanne went to close the door behind her, and suddenly screamed out when she was lifted off the ground and hoisted over his strong shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She didn't get the chance to breathe as he swiftly kicked the front door shut and turned around to move into his simple bedroom before tossing her down on the queen sized mattress with a high bounce. She was giggling like a schoolgirl as he crawled on top of her and started to unbutton her jeans.

"So, what was it that we needed to talk about?"

Her green eyes narrowed as he tugged off her pants, knowing that there was no way that he was going to engage in any sort of serious conversation right now. "We need rules about _this_."

A wry grin split his handsome face as he stared at her baby blue lace panties, "Like what sort of rules, darling? I can only bend you over your desk after you've had your morning coffee?"

She bit her lip and sat up to pull off his cashmere sweater and then methodically unbuttoned the white collared shirt to expose his bare muscled chest. "There will be absolutely _NO_ sex of any sort in the office." Her voice was breathy as she tongued the hard, hot muscle of his chest. "In fact, you will be a fucking angel when you are working, am I understood? My assistant is smart and she'll figure out that something is going on in an instant, and I don't need that stress."

Eames fought the urge to tell her that her brilliant and darling assistant Nita already knew exactly what was going on between them. Instead he pushed off his shirt and tugged off her knit sweater, nodding obediently as he practically salivated at the matching bra that she was wearing underneath it. "No naughty business at work, I've got it."

Suzanne went for his belt as she continued, "Never, ever at my house. It's too dangerous."

He sighed as he stood up to shuck his jeans, shoes and socks. "But you have that beautiful virginal white bed," He mumbled as he settled over her, completely nude, his mouth teething her breasts through the flimsy material as his hard cock ground against her lace covered center. "I just want to make you come all over it." She froze and in an instant he regretted his mouth. The fucking lust had bypassed his brain and he couldn't believe what he'd said.

"How do you know I have white sheets on my bed?"

"Lucky guess, love," he recovered as he tried to keep her attention in the moment, refusing to let her sit up.

"_Eames_."

Her voice was irritated, and for the first time in his life he decided that telling the truth was the most effective way out of the situation. He stared at her angry green eyes and shook his head, "I'm a bloody thief head over heels in love with you, darling. Do you really think that I came in town and _didn't_ break into your bedroom?"

Alright, it wasn't the complete truth…but it wasn't a lie, either.

Suzanne didn't know what to say. Part of her was furious at the fact that he dared to violate her privacy, but part of her was interested that he wanted her so completely that he refused to stay away. "How long were you there?"

There was a hint of breathlessness in her voice that made him brave in his words. He had to hope that she'd done her little nightly self-pleasure routine after their trip to Vancouver, because he didn't have a reason to be in her room _before_ that, that wouldn't give him away. But with the way he'd felt after the night he kissed her, he _knew_ she'd done it. He grinned like a predator as he leaned down to her ear as he began to rock his erection against her with a purposeful roll of his hips. "Mmm, let's just say I was there long enough to see what you keep in that little nightstand of yours, you dirty girl."

She gasped in shock, but he refused to stop. He could feel her sweetness soaking through her tiny panties, and he knew that his words were making her hot as all hell. He hovered over her mouth as he whispered, "Ask me what I was doing."

Her green eyes were almost fully black with desire and he lifted up just enough to slip his hands down and pull at the scrap of fabric until it was off and she made short work of her bra, sending it to the floor as well. Finally there was nothing at all between his need and hers, but he wanted her to know.

"Ask me."

Suzanne shivered as she spoke, a little of her bravery coming back to her. "What were you doing, Edward, while I was moaning your name and trying desperately to come?" He growled lowly at her salacious words and it was her turn to tease, she leaned in to let her tongue come out to swipe across his lips, "What were you doing when I was riding that miserable piece of silicone wishing it was your beautiful cock?"

Eames had to literally bite his tongue to keep from losing himself all over her. How could this woman be coy as a blushing virgin one moment and as absolutely filthy as a harlot the next? Goddamn it he loved her. When he finally regained control he slid himself down her body until the aching tip of his hardness was nudging at her very core. He held it there for just a moment as he gathered a deep breath into his lungs, needing every bit of concentration to take this in. "I was watching you, from your _husband's_ closet. Fucking pumping my hand so fast, love…I came so _fucking_ hard…you drove me mad with what I couldn't have…"

Without warning he snapped his hips and speared her to the hilt.

Suzanne screamed at the overwhelming sensation, and when he began to thrust furiously, the feeling combined with the lusty words in her ear had her seizing up in a body shaking orgasm only moments later. He snarled as he rode the aftershocks, working her with precision, loving the way her gorgeous body writhed around him like a wild thing. White hot pleasure surged in his veins as he knelt on his haunches and grabbed her hips, hauling her off the mattress as he straightened his back and continued to give her everything he had.

She was wailing and crying out in ecstasy and it was music to his soul. His head fell back and he stared at the ceiling as he closed his eyes, his hunger and his heart taking over his mouth again in a nonsensical ramblings that he couldn't stop. "I love you… you beautiful creature… I want to be with you until I die…I want to marry you…_God_ …tell me you love me…"

"I love you!" She sobbed in a strangled cry.

Her agonized plea broke him. Eames shouted her name, not caring that the bed was slamming over and over again against the paper thin wall and that with the way they were both carrying on the whole complex could no doubt hear them, as his entire world exploded. He came for what felt like an eternity, roaring in triumph as he felt her inner walls ripple and squeeze him like a tight fist, pulling the last of his essence from his body in one last climax.

Eames was shaking as bad as she was as he collapsed onto her body, holding her close and kissing her face over and over again.

They lay motionless, and Suzanne smiled as she ran her nails across his scalp. She couldn't believe that the two of them were more uncontrollable around each other now than they were in Paris two years ago. He told her he loved her, and that he wanted to marry her, and even discounting the fact that he was buried deep in her when he said it- the words counted for something. He'd never said anything like that before.

"I meant what I said, darling," He sighed pleasantly against her throat.

Suzanne smiled, "About the fact that you love me and want to marry me, or about the fact that you are a dirty Peeping Tom?"

Eames chuckled warmly, "Hmm, neither, I was referring to my original plan that we should shower and get Chinese takeaway because I'm starving."

She laughed as he lifted his head and kissed her lips gently, "And those other things too, filthy pervert included."

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne snuggled onto Eames' chest as they lay in bed, their stomachs full and blissfully exhausted a few hours later. She yawned and realized that there was no way in hell she was getting out of the warm cocoon of wonderful smelling man she was relaxing in right now. She told herself that she could get up really early and run home in the morning to get dressed before going to work. She'd just be a little later than normal.

It was simple and everything was completely under her control.


	20. Chapter 20

**AN: Vacation makes for the muse's happiest time! **

**Hope you all enjoy this one…ironically a little NSFW-ness… ; )**

**Please, as always, read and review. As always, much love!**

**And yeah being a little lazy, so if I need to edit later I will…**

* * *

_Los Angeles, California_

_2010_

* * *

Suzanne never knew that she had it in her to have so much willpower. But after she managed to get out of Eames' bed at four-thirty in the damn morning, she seriously felt superhuman. She was so warm, his arms were wrapped tightly around her, and his strong body pressed the length of hers made her feel so incredibly safe. It was the first real feeling that the fairy tale of the past few days was over and it was time to get back to the drudgery of her real life. She slowly climbed out of his arms, having to duck his grasping hands that shot out to pull her back in, and quickly got dressed.

"Where are you going, love?" His husky, sleep filled voice growled lowly.

She smiled as she looked at his half closed grey eyes, his normally gelled hair was pasted against his forehead and damn it if he didn't look adorably gorgeous. "I have to go home so I can shower and get dressed for work." When he frowned she rolled her eyes and leaned over his body, "You, know, _work_- the same place I expect to see your ass in a few hours."

"How could I forget," Eames groaned as he rolled onto his back and stretched like a massive cat, arching his spine and flexing his hips to emphasize a part of him that was beginning to wake up and rise to attention. He caught Suzanne staring at it with an almost ravenous look in her eyes, and he grinned. "You should let me give it to you nice and quick, darling."

"I think we both know it won't be quick." She answered with a sigh before she leaned over and kissed him deeply, fighting the urge to reach her hand down his washboard abs and touch him. "I'll see you in a few hours, baby."

"Be careful driving, love." He mumbled as he rolled back onto his side and closed his eyes.

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne stood in front of her closet in the middle of her silent and untouched bedroom an hour and a half later, as she stared at the myriad of hanging clothes. She couldn't think straight, her mind was wandering to the absolutely salacious things Eames had said to her yesterday in the midst of their lovemaking. He had stood in her husband's closet and pleasured himself while he watched her to the same. It was so insanely dirty, but at the same time it was fantasy come to life, that they could be connected like that, their bodies and hearts in synch with their desire even when their minds were too damn stubborn to appreciate one another.

She shook her head out of her daydream and pulled out a pale cream colored suit and a light pink camisole to wear underneath the jacket. It was just a simple and very fitted pencil skirt and coat, but as she slid on her white lace bra and matching garter belt, she paused at the matching thong that went with it. A devious smile spread across her face as she tossed it back into her dresser drawer and pulled on a pair of seamed thigh high stockings and nude pumps. Eames was always commenting on her ass and the way that her skirts looked, she wanted to see if he was really paying attention.

With a spring in her step she finished getting ready and jumped into her car at 6:45, she was going to be a little late after all.

:o:o:o:o

Eames had to practically peel himself out of bed when his alarm went off. The past few days of blissful relaxation and happiness didn't exactly make for a man who wanted to work a ten hour day behind a desk. Though as he shaved his face meticulously in the mirror he recalled the fact that Annie had set some rather strict rules trying to govern their animal attraction last night, never at work and never at her home. He was quite sure that by the end of the day that he could make short work of the first one with very little effort.

Well, they always say that you should start your day with a goal in mind, he reasoned. His would be bending her over that desk of hers, preferably while she was on a conference call with her husband.

He threw on a simple, black suit with a maroon shirt and matching tie before hitting himself with a little cologne and walking out the front door towards the Metro.

Just before he made it to the familiar glass prison of the Jensen building he stopped off to grab himself and Suzanne a coffee, making sure to snatch a quick bagel for breakfast and also grabbing a blueberry scone. Because if he knew anything about her, it was the fact that she rushed around at home and sacrificed her morning meal to get to work on time, and he couldn't have her starving herself on his watch.

Eames sauntered off the elevator to see Nita already at her desk, and she beamed a 1,000 watt smile as he came behind his desk. "How was your holiday, Tom?" There was a knowing and very amused tone in her voice and her dark brown eyes were sparkling as she looked him over from head to toe.

"Incredible, darling," He answered truthfully, unable to stop the wistful sigh that made him sound like a teenage girl. "It was absolutely incredible."

She smiled and leaned forward on her elbows, "I talked to Suzanne this morning, and she's going to be a little late. She sounded like she was_ glowing_."

The tips of his ears heated up under the woman's intense gaze and Eames was shocked to realize that he was actually blushing at her words. "Enough of that," He admonished her playfully. "How have _you_ been these past few days, Ms. Trivedi?"

It was Nita's turn to change into a charming shade of bright pink and she covered her face with her hands. "We have been out every single day together. I mean on Christmas Eve we spent the entire day in a lab working on organic compounds for an experiment that he is running. It's insanely wonderful. I mean, we just click about everything. I feel like I've known him for _years_." She laughed and rolled her eyes, "Listen to me I sound like a crazy person babbling on."

"No," He said quietly, "You sound as you should sound, it's really lovely. Yusuf is the best man I know, and I completely understand your feeling about him, I have to say he is the one person other than Suzanne, that I can spend hours with and feel nothing but true contentment."

Nita bit her lip and stared at him, "You have got to be the single most romantic man I have ever met, Tom."

He smiled ruefully as he logged onto his computer, "Ah, it's an act, love. I'm a scoundrel I assure you."

"Yeah, sure you are, except that coffee and scone sitting on your desk that is no doubt for her tells me that you are a sheep parading in wolf's clothing."

Eames laughed at the turn of phrase and groaned simultaneously when he looked at the two hundred emails that had come through since he was at his desk last. This job was going to be the death of him.

Thankfully it was only another twenty minutes before Suzanne sauntered into the office with her normally controlled hair waving freely down over her shoulders in a beautiful ebony cascade. He took one look at her cream colored suit before he closed his eyes as his body reacted instantly, as if by the fact that she was within his reach, his cock assumed that it was time to mate. Not that he was particularly inclined to disagree with it. He quickly finished the email that he was working on before he picked up her coffee and her breakfast and walked into her office.

She was standing with her back to him as he placed the cup and the small bag on her desk, he wanted to tease her and follow her rules for the time being, but his body had other ideas. Instead he let himself come up close enough to press against her as he slid her hair over her shoulder to expose her neck and her ear. "I brought you something to start your day," His voice was low and he could hear the blatant sex dripping from it, "Since you wouldn't let me start it the way you deserve." He leaned his mouth against the shell of her ear and let his tongue come out to pull her lobe between his teeth with a nip. Suzanne gasped at the move, and trembled as he kissed her neck, his hands coming to rest on her hips with a squeeze.

"Edward, we can't do this." She whispered desperately, "If someone sees us."

Eames didn't want to push her too far, but by the way her tight little ass was leaning out to eagerly rub against the front of his pants, he wagered that it wouldn't take much at all to take her. "Can I just have one kiss, love?" He was prepared for her to say no- so it was almost a shock when she turned quickly in his arms and grabbed him by the neck to kiss him in a deep, slow, move. Her tongue began stroking his with a deliberate seduction that had him drunk on the feeling only moments later.

She smiled as she pulled away and stared up at him, "Now, get back to work."

"Yes, Ma'am," He breathed deeply as he shook his head to regain control before he walked out the door.

:o:o:o:o

Hours later Suzanne weeded through the hundreds of bogus emails that weren't worth her time, while she sipped her now stone cold coffee and nibbled on the buttery blueberry scone that Eames has brought her for breakfast. She was grateful for the food, because she had been in such a rush to get in this morning that she hadn't even given a thought to what she was going to eat, and it was now coming up on lunch and there was no way she was getting out of her office this afternoon. In fact the only respite she'd gotten from the room was when she had to walk down to the software office to settle a coding issue that was driving her crazy.

Although it was a welcome field trip to catch a look at Eames in his delicious suit, as he sat at his desk typing away at something, looking like some sort of goddamn bad boy runway model. She would have been lying if she said that she didn't roll her hips more than usual when she walked by and then spent an extended amount of time bent over the front of Nita's desk as she left her a memo that needed to go out. She smiled as she caught him red handed staring up from his computer screen at her ass, and then waited a moment more to see him breathe sharply through his nose and covertly shift on his chair.

She half wondered if he'd seen her little naughty prank.

The answer came when she was halfway through and amusing email to Nigel about her holiday and the list of important things they were overdue to discuss when an email popped up that was from: _Heathcliff, Thomas._

Her brow quirked at just what Eames could possibly say and she was actually interested when it was a legitimate correspondence.

_Love, I have Jeremy Anderson from the London office asking about the firewall code distribution. What would you like me to tell him?_

_Tell him that I am writing Nigel about that right now, and I expect to have it out soon. Thank you for handling that._

_No problem, darling. Oh, before I go to lunch I do have one question for you, I couldn't help but notice as you wiggled that perfect ass of yours past my desk, and then practically put it in my face in that skin-tight skirt, that I could once again see the faint outline of your garters…but I was surprised to find that I couldn't see your knickers. Are they that tiny?_

Suzanne chuckled as she read his words, picturing the sexy smirk on his full lips as he wrote it. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to have him salivating behind his computer the way that he had left her this morning after touching her so brazenly.

_Actually, very astute observation, the reason that you can't see them is because I'm not wearing any._

There was only a momentary pause before he answered her back.

_I see. Before I forget, we have a little meeting tonight with our friends about that project. We have to be there at seven._

Suzanne frowned at the disappointment; she expected something out of him that was a little more… well, Eames, for lack of a better word. So in the end she settled on a sedate reply that matched his.

_I will make sure to be done work at six. Thank you._

:o:o:o:o

By definition, hardness is the measure of the resistance of solid matter to permanent shape change by force, and on the planet Earth, the element Carbon in the pressurized form of a diamond is the hardest substance. But by the time that six o'clock rolled around, Eames had to beg to differ with the years of physics instruction that he had in school. Because he was quite sure that after finding out that Suzanne wasn't wearing a scrap of fabric over that succulent pussy of hers, his cock had been hard enough all afternoon to put a goddamn diamond to shame.

He was so far gone that he'd actually contemplated going into the bathroom to rub one out at lunch, just to be able to concentrate again. Even poor Nita had been concerned when he passed up lunch with her and Yusuf to stay behind his desk and get some work done. He didn't really think the massive tenting in his trousers would be polite conversation for the new couple as they got to know one another. So instead he sat at his desk and ate three bags of crisps and a candy bar out of the vending machine for lunch.

Not exactly the gourmet meals he'd enjoyed over the holiday.

He was just preparing to log out of his computer as the phone rang. Nita went to answer it and he waved her off for the night knowing that he would have to wait for Suzanne anyway. "Good evening, Jensen Holdings, Suzanne Jensen's office, this is Tom, how may I help you." The words rolled off his tongue in a disinterested droll.

"Ah, _Tom_, still with the company I see."

Richard's voice filled the receiver and Eames felt his raging adrenaline spiking to red line. The lust he had in his system mixed with the purely alpha male impulse to mark his territory, created a potent cocktail of volatile hormones that made him want to reach through the phone and snap his fucking neck.

"I am for a little longer- _Mister_… oh, forgive me, I didn't catch your name."

"It's _Richard Jensen_." He snapped tersely. "Now I'd like to speak to my _wife_."

Eames smiled menacingly as his voice maintained the same smooth tone. "Ah, sorry mate, I'm afraid she's just stepped out on you. I'm rather sure she's still around here somewhere, I could have her call you when she's finished."

"Forget it, I'll call her tonight."

The phone went dead and Eames slammed his down. Oh, she was stepping out alright, and right now she was going to step out with him until she was red faced from screaming and coming all over his cock.

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne logged off her computer and checked her makeup a little after six, she was curious as to what the meeting with Cobb was going to entail. She hadn't really talked to Ariadne since Vancouver, and she was pretty sure that she was going to need to work with her for a little while in regards to the layout of David Woodruff's office. She stood up and packed up her bag just as Eames walked through the door.

She looked up to make a smart ass comment about being his chauffer, when suddenly the look on his face made her heart race. His jaw was set, working under the clean shaven skin, his eyes were dark and his chest was heaving- he looked enraged, like he wanted to kill someone.

"Edward?" She spoke nervously as he backed her up against her desk roughly. "What's wrong?" Suzanne tried to rein in the lust that coursed through her body as he pressed himself to her hips and she felt the impressive staff of his manhood standing straight up. She tried to remember the rules that she had so carefully set yesterday regarding their behavior, how nothing at all was supposed to happen in her office. But no matter how hard she focused on those common sense rules, the sight of his full, plump lips panting so close to hers made her forget it all.

Suddenly she wanted to see those same lips, the ones that taunted and teased her yesterday with scandalous words, she wanted to see them muttering unintelligible nonsense as she drove him crazy. She smiled as she reached for his belt with a playful gleam in her eyes, "I've noticed that you seem a bit aroused, Mr. Eames, that wouldn't be because of the little secret I told you this afternoon, is it?"

His grey eyes were sharp as he stared at her like a feast to be devoured and she continued boldly, licking her lips slowly for emphasis, "I know there are rules to be followed, but I'd be willing to_ bend_ them."

It all happened in a flash.

Eames' hands shot out and spun her around so she was facing the shiny surface of her mahogany desk. Her eyes were wide with panic and excitement as his lips pressed against her ear, "Mmm, see normally darling, I'd be dying to have you slide down on your knees and suck me dry with those gorgeous red lips…but that was before you told me that you pranced around here all day with that sweet thing bare just waiting for _this_." She groaned as he rocked himself against her backside, sliding along the curve with insistence before he reached down and pulled her skirt up around her waist. "Now, I'm afraid that I can't possibly settle for anything else."

Suzanne was shaking as she heard his belt open and his pants unzip before they fell off his hips, clanking on the rug of her office floor with a dull _thud_. Her hand came up to cover her mouth as she felt his rough palm grab her hip, as the other hand brought up his cock, hard and huge, to her already soaking wet core. He plunged in without warning and instantly started a punishing rhythm, letting his other hand come up to grab her hip as he pumped into her hard and deep.

Eames let his eyes travel down to appreciate the delicate white lace of her garter that spanned the pale globes of her lovely ass and he bit his lip to suppress the urge to shout like a caveman as he watched himself, covered in her sweet juices and swollen red, working in and out- over and over.

"Is this what you wanted, love?" He managed to speak lowly. "This what you wanted when you bent over in front of me today?"

"Yes!" Suzanne whined in a breathy whisper as her nails clawed against the shiny surface of her desk as she tried to steady herself, "God, yes, _harder_, Edward!"

His hips were furious, while his cock hit everything inside her perfectly. Like only he could. Like only he ever had. She reached between her legs to touch herself, her little pearl screaming for contact as he rode her. She arched her back with a whine and suddenly she was shaking and convulsing along the length of his hardness, bursting in a climax that had her clamping her hand over her mouth to muffle the screams.

He followed only a moment later, his thrusts becoming wild and erratic before he pushed in to her very limit and released with a choked growl.

His knees barely held him up as he pulled out of her and stood up, holding Suzanne against his chest as he kissed her cheek and nuzzled her playfully. "Sorry about that, darling, I felt like a bloody beast. You drove me mad today."

She smiled languidly as she breathed in the intoxicating aroma of his cologne, "Well, if all it takes to get you to do it like that is not wear panties, I think I'll be forgoing them from now on."

Eames sighed, "How you own me my sweet, Annie. Oh, and we are going to be late too. Do you want to tell Arthur why, or do you want me to?"

"Behave yourself, Mr. Eames."

:o:o:o:o

She couldn't believe she was letting this happen. Suzanne sat in the passenger's seat of her own car as Eames deftly maneuvered them through traffic towards the Port of Los Angeles. Her legs were crossed and his hand rested comfortably on her knee as she tried to remain calm.

"Relax." He smirked as he flipped the paddle shift to kick the car up a gear as he weaved around a slow truck. "I've got this _glorious_ machine under my complete control, love."

"I'm totally relaxed," She said stiffly.

He laughed like a school boy as the hand on her thigh crept up to slide underneath her skirt, knowing that she hated giving up control of her precious car to him. But yet she'd done it just the same. It was just another sign that she trusted him with everything. A nagging feeling in his stomach reminded him that she trusted him and he was lying to her about what was going on. That the job that they were on wasn't what Cobb and the others had told her. He shifted in his seat and winced at the pressure that his passport and wallet was putting on his leg. He fished out the well-used UK passport and placed it into the console with a sigh.

It was perhaps some sort of consolation that she could know a little about what was going on in his life…or at least a small part of it.

As he knew she would Suzanne leaned up to grab it and flipped it open to stare at the myriad of stamps that spanned the globe. He didn't have the heart to tell her that although it was the passport that he traveled a majority of the time with, he had a safe deposit box in both the Cayman Islands and Zurich that had a few others that were just as decorated, not to mention the money they sat with.

Her eyes methodically scanned through the destinations, she was shocked to see one of the very first stamps was from Paris, France in 2007- it was when they first met. There were dozens more, Bangkok, Moscow, Montreal, Jakarta, Rio, and a bunch from Mombasa. She remembered that he was living there when she was staying in his flat; apparently he had gone back quite often since then. She suddenly notice another stamp from Paris ten months ago, then one from Sydney, Paris again, Sydney, and finally Los Angeles, all within the span of a couple months.

He must have been working.

:o:o:o:o

The warehouse was just like the others that Arthur had rented in the time that she'd known him. Suzanne smirked at the thought that the Point-man probably had a meticulously organized peg board with keys and a warehouse labeled on each one in his immaculate apartment somewhere.

It was a little before seven-thirty when they walked through the door and into the open, hangar style building. There was a scattering of lounge chairs around a large chalkboard and an easel, and in front of that was a table that had four people sitting in chairs that turned to look at the two of them with very different expressions. Ariadne and Yusuf looked happy to see them, Arthur looked irritated that they were late, and Cobb- well Cobb looked as _lost_ as he always did.

Suzanne smiled politely as she sat down, trying not to look Arthur in the eye. Because she was pretty damn sure that she had, "Just got bent over my desk and I loved it" written all over her face.

"So, Eames, watch need a battery again?" The thin man grumbled, as his dark brown eyes narrowed.

"Not at all," He answered with a smile, taking a seat next to Suzanne and letting his arm fall casually across the back of her chair. "Annie and I were stuck at the office working out a rather important bit of business that needed both of our _diligent_ attentions. So I am very sorry, Arthur, that we could not meet your no doubt exceedingly important timetable."

He rolled his eyes and Suzanne was embarrassed when she couldn't suppress the smile that came across her face at his words.

Arthur for his part just went back to the blackboard. "So I have been compiling research on the Mark for the past week and it seems like he's going to have a bit of traveling coming up soon. Flying from Los Angeles to Sydney after the first of the year, I think that is going to be the best time to go for it."

"But we only need an hour this time, not the entire flight," Ariadne spoke up and Suzanne didn't miss the way that the other's eyes snapped up and on to her like she had said something wrong.

It was like the tumblers of an insanely complex combination lock to a massive safe that began to fall into place one by one.

Eames had been traveling from Sydney to Los Angeles ten months ago, the same time that Ariadne had been hired by Cobb and met Arthur, the same time that her husband was there working with Peter Browning, the same time that Maurice Fischer passed away, and the same time that Richard was supposed to have taken a private jet with Robert Fischer to accompany the body home for the funeral but at the last minute was delayed. Suzanne remembered that Fischer ended up having to take a commercial flight home alone to accompany the body.

"_I honestly think he lost his mind somewhere between his father dying in Sydney and the funeral in Los Angeles."_

Richard's words flew back into her ears and a wash of ice cold realization shivered across her skin. They had done something to him. Had Cobb done to Robert Fischer what he had done to Mallorie? Her heart began to pound and she was trembling as the panic and anger surged through her body. Her face was bright red and Eames turned to look at her with a concerned look on his face.

"Are you alright, love?"

Suzanne shook her head and the tears began to fall from her eyes in uncontrollable rivers. Right now there was nothing that she could hear except for her own mind, and it told her over and over that somehow Cobb had done something to make Robert Fischer lose everything that he had held dear…just like his wife.

It was two years of agony and loss that made her do it. Thinking of Phillipa and little James with no mother, she finally cracked.

"You fucking son of a bitch!" Suzanne yelled as she stood up and stared at Cobb. "What did you do to Robert Fischer?"

The entire room froze and she could feel Eames behind her with his warm hands resting gently on her shoulders. She shrugged him off as she stared at Cobb's alarmed blue eyes. "I'm not a fucking idiot, Dom. I _know_ Robert and what he's doing to his father's company! My husband works with him! So, what, you aren't extracting from people anymore? What the fuck is it you do, huh? Ruin people? Destroy their minds?"

"It's none of your goddamn business what I do," Cobb snapped with a note of acidic anger in his voice. "You were brought in here for one thing, and that is all you need to know. You have no right questioning me!"

"I have no _right_?" She yelled as she snarled at him. "I have every fucking right. My reputation gives me the right! _Mal _gives me the right! You did it to her too didn't you?!"

"Leave my wife out of this!" Cobb screamed.

It was like an admission of guilt and Suzanne couldn't control herself, she lost every bit of the cool, calm and professional demeanor that she worked so hard at. Instantly she was left with nothing but blinding rage. She lunged across the table at him, screaming and clawing like a damn wild cat. She couldn't control the words that were coming out of her mouth, calling him every name in the book and cursing him for being a bad father and a pathetic husband who cared more about money than his wife. Words that had been building for so long they came out like nothing at all.

It was Eames' strong arms pulling her into his chest that stopped her from writhing around like an animal. He bodily lifted her slight frame by the waist and carried her across the room and walked outside away from everyone, leaning over her as she heaved out her breath and strained to get away from him.

"Let go of me, Eames." She ground out angrily.

"I don't think that is such a good idea, darling. I need you to calm down before I do that, I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Suzanne wiggled against him and scoffed in disgust when she felt the unmistakable outline of his manhood hardening against her ass. "Honestly, Eames. Can you control your cock and not think about sex for just five minutes?!"

He laughed against her ear as he held her tight, "After seeing you so uninhibited and passionate, no my love, it's too gorgeous a sight to not think about having you right now."

She smiled despite herself and relented, letting him stand up and hold her close as she breathed in deeply, calming herself in his embrace. Suzanne turned in his arms and snuggled against his neck as she sighed. "I'm sorry, Edward."

His arms came around her and he cradled her close, his fingers threading through her hair in a slow, soothing pull. "There is no need to apologize. I have no idea how you could have kept that all inside for so long." Eames looked over his shoulder at the door to the warehouse and rested his lips against her head, "Let's get the hell out of here."

"What about the meeting?" She murmured as the musky scent of his cologne and the feel of his warm skin through the soft fabric of the dress shirt he was wearing began to lull her into a sense of calm and aroused bliss.

"Bollocks, love, all of it. They won't miss us tonight. How about you and I head to the store and pick up enough food for a proper breakfast and I'll make you a meal at my place."

Suzanne smiled as she kissed him gently, "As long as you cook it in nothing but a tacky, god awful plaid robe."

"That can be arranged."


	21. Chapter 21

**AN: Going nuts and writing away…lots of talk and a little action here…there is actually a LOT that is between the lines, and you don't have to look very far to see it. There is a great deal of stuff that is about to go down…**

**As always read and review loves…**

* * *

_Los Angeles, California _

_2010_

* * *

Suzanne stood in Eames' kitchen wearing his disgusting salmon colored polyester shirt, completely relaxed as she cut up potatoes into slices for the hash browns to go with the eggs, sausage, ham, tomatoes and mushrooms that they were cooking up as a lovely breakfast for dinner. She looked over at him and admired the way he filled out the same tacky robe he'd worn in Paris all those years ago. But even through the pure bliss of staring at his gorgeous ass, her head was still swimming about what had happened at the warehouse.

"What happened ten months ago, Eames?" She finally asked out loud as she turned and stared at him.

"Darling," He sighed, bowing his head, "I can't; I have made promises to people, and I intend to keep them."

"You won't tell me, after everything we've been through?" She was trying not to get upset with him, but her patience was already running very thin and the thought that he knew something about what had happened was driving her absolutely insane. She took a deep breath and stared at him with an imploring look, "Edward, please."

He looked at her with a wry grin on his face, "Annie, you are playing dirty, love."

When she didn't move he shook his head and spoke quietly. "Have you ever heard of inception?"

"No."

"Alright, put simply, extraction is the removal of information and ideas, and inception is the counterpart-planting an idea." He explained as he crouched down to fish out a couple of frying pans and put them on the stovetop.

Suzanne thought for a moment, remembering everything that she had read about dream sharing and everything she learned from her time with Stephen Miles in school. "But, how can you convince someone of an idea that isn't their own? I mean the mind is very instinctual, it knows where the genesis of everything comes from. How do you get around that?"

"It's a very subtle art," Eames answered with a smile. "And I will say that I have tried to do it several times over the past few years with various teams, but none of them have been successful."

"Until Fischer," She added.

"Until Fischer," He repeated.

"How did this all happen?"

He raised his eyebrow and stared at her with a sigh, "You are putting me on thin ice, darling. Let's just say that Cobb was in a rather unfortunate situation following Mallorie's death, and an opportunity arose with this job for him to be able to get home to his children for good. So he took it."

Suzanne nodded as she chewed her lip and stared absently down at her feet. They had managed to create genuine inspiration, and she was absolutely fascinated. It called to that part of her that was still firmly Suzanne Williams, the 23 year-old architect in training that walked wide-eyed into Professor Miles' class. And just like that same girl, the vagueness of the conversation hadn't begun to answer the questions that were now eating at her brain. "So, what was the idea?"

"Annie," He scolded with a warning tone.

It was at that moment that she knew it was going to take a little more persuasion on her part. She put down the knife and washed her hands quickly before she closed the distance between them and took his mouth in a deep kiss, letting her tongue plunge in to take his with a hunger that he was all too quick to match in its intensity. Her hand wandered up to cup him through the flimsy cotton barrier and he sucked a painfully aroused breath through his nose. As her lips moved to his neck, and her hand began a strong up and down rub, he let his head fall back with a dark chuckle.

"You little vixen," Eames groaned. "I'll have you know I have been through brutal resistance to interrogation training for days; there is no way you are getting anything out of me."

"Is that right," She mumbled as she parted his robe and began to kiss the wall of his chest, her hands working the knot as she moved lower and lower, until she was on her knees and pulling the robe open to have access to the specimen of perfect masculinity that was straining for her touch.

"Mmhm," She hummed as she brought her nails up to gently scratch down the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, "Let me guess, that involved violent concepts like pain and torture." He groaned at the feeling of her hands and she smiled wolfishly as she brought her mouth to the rock hard line of his staff, keeping her lips a hairs breadth away as she nuzzled it teasingly. "I wonder how long you could last against the promise of pleasure instead, Mr. Eames?"

He bit down on his bottom lip hard enough to mark it at her incredibly naughty words. It was at that moment that he was quite sure that if Suzanne was in charge of an enemy force, she'd have the secrets of the world in no time at all. Because in his time with the SAS, he'd endured extreme pain, deprivation of sleep, food and water until he was delirious, he was left naked and shivering in the dark with a hood over his head for days…but nothing broke him. And now, after only moments, when her pretty pink tongue came out to daintily tease the ultra sensitive tip of his cock, he felt himself falling apart at the seams. He should have been embarrassed of the pathetic sounding whimper that escaped his clenched jaw, but he was too far gone to care.

"Darling," He managed to gasp out, "My God, I'll tell you anything as long as you, please, _please_, take me in your mouth. I've waited so long for this."

For all her playing she couldn't deny him anything when he spoke in the unguarded, weak and real tone. When he let his defenses fall and unashamedly showed her his true face. She licked her lips and leaned forward to take his length into her mouth with a slow, eager pull, working it up and down in synch with the hand that circled the base.

Eames couldn't stop his hand from tangling in her long hair to guide her movements, not that she needed any help, bloody hell this woman knew what she was doing. He stared down at her in awe and worship as his mind took in the sight of her faded red lips wrapped around him, it was better than any fantasy he could have imagined. But it was when she reached up to switch hands that he actually felt his entire scrotum jerk, because there it was- her million dollar diamond ring that symbolized her marriage to another man, and it was grabbing _his_ cock.

Possession and covetous arousal screamed through his body and suddenly he tugged her gently off of him and slid down on his knees to meet her on the floor, hiking up the shirt she was wearing to have access to everything about her that was calling to him. His hand dipped between her legs and his fingers found her already soaked and ready; as if what she had been doing to him drove her just as crazy. In a heartbeat he was inside her, and seconds later they were falling into the practiced rhythm of lovemaking in such perfect harmony that she was already writhing against him as her orgasm came racing at her.

It was finally a time to take back control as he lifted her arms over her head and pinned her wrists to the linoleum floor with one of his wide palms as the other hand grabbed her hip to hold her against him. He groaned and growled out his pleasure as he began to feel his own end tingling and surging down his spine; he wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer. But it was in these times that he was rather proud of his concentration skills, he was able to focus for the barest of seconds, enough to feel Suzanne's velvety soft walls tremble and shift and then she was there. Her body straining against his and her insides throbbing and pulling him in, just as her beautiful mouth had, and he finally came in a rush, surrendering to her power.

They both came down and collapsed in a shaking breath on the kitchen floor, and Suzanne couldn't stop giggling at the way neither one of them seemed to have any control whatsoever where the other was concerned.

"Remind me to never let you defect, love." He murmured against her neck. "The world would be powerless against you."

"You say that like I have _any_ control over what I feel for you," She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed the top of his head. "I am just as weak, Mr. Eames, don't kid yourself."

He leaned his head up on his elbow and stared down at her face with a smile on his full lips, "There could be worse things to be than madly in love like a fool."

"True," She smiled and bit her lip, "So, what was that idea."

"Minx," Eames chuckled and shook his head ruefully, "The post-orgasmic haze. It makes for a very easy to persuade victim. Now, if I say this, you have to know that I am giving it to you in my strictest confidence; it can never go any further."

Suzanne nodded and reached up to kiss his mouth gently. "It's with me 'til I die."

"A competitor of Fischer Morrow felt as if they couldn't compete any longer, and with only one company controlling half the world's energy market they would become a superpower. They saw the death of Maurice Fischer as the opportunity they needed to regain a foothold. We were contracted to make Robert Fischer break up his company."

She froze as she stared blankly into his grey eyes, the wheels were turning in her mind and suddenly so many things began to make sense. The "situation" that had kept Richard constantly in Sydney, the reason that he and Browning had so aggressively fought for control of the Board of Directors to keep Robert in the dark; they were trying to keep the company together. But who would have to money to finance something like that?

"How do you convince someone to do something that complex?" She asked as he moved to help her off the floor. A bit of embarrassment flushed across her face as a bit of their recent activity leaked down her thigh, she ran to the bathroom to clean herself up, and as she returned to the kitchen, the smell of sautéing onions and potatoes filled the small space.

"Better?" Eames smirked as he whisked the eggs and cream together to make a smooth mixture, an almost cocky tone was in his voice, as if it wasn't blatantly obvious that she was just wiping off his seed, his mark of ownership.

"Much." She sighed, realizing that she agreed with him on some level about the concept of ownership. "Where were we?"

"Ah, you were manipulating me with that sinful body of yours to say things I never would have said under normal circumstances." He answered as he maneuvered the sausage and mushrooms into another pan. She laughed and he continued, "When you break the idea down to the simplest level you come down to one concept, the man and his father."

"So, you direct the notion based on an emotional response." Suzanne reasoned out loud. "And from what I remember Maurice Fisher was certainly not a candidate for father of the year, so that couldn't have been easy."

"It wasn't I assure you, I had a headache for days afterwards."

Suzanne felt an odd sense of calm as she stood next to him, "The job gave Cobb his children back."

"It did, and I know that you might not want to hear me say this, but love, he's so consumed with guilt about his wife it's heartbreaking." Eames looked at her with a sad smile on his face. "You've known him for years; I think he deserves a chance to explain himself to someone who understands."She frowned and stared down at her feet, crossing her arms like and angry child, but he continued in a calm tone that made her grudgingly admit that she was in the wrong.

"You forgave me."

The simple sentiment made her snap her head up and stare at him with a look of surprise on her face. He was right. Eames had hurt her, and she'd given him the opportunity to explain his actions. She'd offered forgiveness. Didn't Dom deserve the same thing? After all she knew that he loved Mal more than anything, and he was all alone in his suffering. If her friend was alive, she would have wanted her to give Eames the same consideration in his grief. She managed a weak smile and nodded, grateful that this intelligent man had been able to offer her some sort of common sense.

It was actually ironic that this man who lived for excitement and surrounded himself in such decadence was her voice of reason.

Suzanne wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and kissed the broad plane of his strong shoulder. "I love you, baby. Thank you."

:o:o:o:o

The morning came too early again.

Suzanne dragged herself out of Eames' bed at the crack of dawn the next morning and got into her car, driving home to take a shower. She reasoned that she really should just bring a change of clothes with her tonight, but as she walked to her front door, there was a note from FedEx that there was a delivery from Ralph Lauren that was waiting for her to be picked up at the local store this afternoon. She frowned instantly at the notice and suddenly her stomach began to roil and rumble uncomfortably. It was the dress that her husband had bought her for the New Years gala that was in three days away. That meant that he would be home in two days.

Richard would be home and would expect to share a bed, and no doubt want to be intimate with her. Her skin actually crawled at the thought of being with him like that. She wanted nothing to do with him, all that she wanted was to run off with Eames and be with him for the rest of their lives somewhere safe; just the two of them together.

She sighed deeply as she walked into her immaculate house. She hadn't been here for a week and there was nothing that was out of the ordinary. Everything was still just the same as if it had just been another day. Her stomach gurgled again and suddenly as she was halfway up the stairs to her bedroom she felt like she was going to be sick. Suzanne raced to her en suite bathroom and barely had time to lift the toilet seat before she threw up the meager morning contents of her empty stomach. She leaned over the bowl and breathed deep as her body calmed down, finally getting to her feet and turning on the shower.

She prayed that she wasn't coming down with something; she just didn't have time to be sick right now.

:o:o:o:o

Eames was sitting at his desk in the middle of a string of ridiculous demands from the software designers for ergonomically designed programmer's chairs that retailed for three thousand dollars apiece, when the elevator dinged pleasantly and Dominick Cobb came walking out in a pressed, but still casual pair of khaki pants and a charcoal grey sport coat and dress shirt, sans tie. He looked well rested, and he had a rather smug grin on his face as he sauntered up to his desk.

"Can I help you?" Nita asked him pleasantly.

"Ms. Williams, I mean Jensen," He shook his head. "I hoped to speak to Suzanne if that is alright."

"Oh?" She answered genuinely surprised. "Is she expecting you, Mister…"

"Cobb, and no, just a social call actually. She knew my wife before she passed away, and I wanted to say hello. I know she's very busy, but I don't plan on taking up more than a few moments of her time."

Nita nodded and walked to her office doors and poked her head inside. It was that instant that Eames was finally able to get off the phone and lean back in his chair as Dom turned to him with a laugh. "Wow. You really look great behind that desk. Got a neat little headset and everything I see."

"Piss off." He replied with a grumble. "What do you need?"

"Just a moment with Suzanne, I need to clear the air after yesterday if she'll see me. We have to keep the job on track, and I need to be able to look at myself in the mirror again."

Eames smiled and slid on his headset as Nita returned with Suzanne in tow. She was buttoning the coat of her black suit as if getting ready to leave the office. "I think you'll find her more eager for conversation today," He sighed. "No need to thank me Cobb, I'll put it on the tab."

Cobb smiled as Suzanne approached them, slinging her bag over her shoulder and adjusting the collar of her plain white shirt. "Hi Dom," She said quietly. "Let's step outside for a cup of coffee?"

He nodded and smiled gently, "Yeah I think that would be nice."

:o:o:o:o

The two of them walked to a small outdoor café only a block or so from her office, and after ordering a couple drinks and a muffin for Suzanne because she was ravenously hungry after only having half Eames' bagel for breakfast, they sat down at one of the tables and enjoyed the sunny LA morning.

Suzanne took a careful sip of her hot coffee and took a deep breath, knowing that after her outburst yesterday that it was her job to say something first. "I apologize for my behavior yesterday." She said quietly.

Cobb nodded and stared down at his hands, "Thank you, Suzanne. But I don't think that you apologize for _what_ you said. I'm pretty sure that you meant every bit of that."

She flushed at the tone of his words, and more than that, the fact that he was absolutely correct. She did feel like he was a selfish husband who had always put his ambition in front of his common sense where his wife was concerned. He had a prestigious job at one of the world's leading architectural firm's right out of school; he could have provided for his family and given them a comfortable and sedate life. But that also meant that he would have to give up on his need to constantly explore and create. But it was what he should have done.

"What I think doesn't matter, Dom. I shouldn't have said that to you I have no idea how you feel or what happened."

"Of course you know how I feel," His head rose and he stared at her with sad, tired blue eyes that seemed to have the weight of the world on them. "There was no one, save her family, the children and I that loved her as much as you did. I can't imagine how angry you must be at me, the questions you must have."

She could hear the emotion in his voice, and it brought tears to her eyes, she didn't want to do this to him. Making him relive Mal's death over and over again wasn't going to bring her back, and it wasn't going to make either one of them any better. "I don't want to ask any questions. I just…I just want to know that it was an accident, that you didn't mean what happened."

"We were so lost so far down," Dom whispered. "We lived a whole life together in our heads, something like fifty years, and when we came back…" He choked up with tears and had to clear his throat with a loud cough. "When we came back…she was gone. I didn't know how to help her. She thought she was still dreaming." Suzanne wiped her eyes as she listened to a broken man talk about his ruined life. "She thought if she jumped she'd wake up."

"You can't feel guilty about that, you didn't know what you were doing. That whole concept was new when we all started out, no one could have known what would happen."

"You don't understand. _I _was the one that told her that her world wasn't real, the idea stuck in her head. It fucking destroyed her." The loathing and derision and guilt in his voice were absolutely devastating. It had to have been eating him alive for two years.

"Dom…"

"But she was so delusional, even through that, she loved me so much…I had to run…I left my children…I left them alone." He was crying now and Suzanne could to nothing but lean over and grab his hand, holding it in hers and rubbing it gently. She didn't know what to say.

"Everything is for them, Suzanne. I just want you to know that. Please know that."

He cleared his throat and she handed him a napkin to wipe his face and quickly got up and grabbed him a glass of ice water. She was calm and quiet as he calmed himself down, knowing that it was not the time to talk. This man had just laid his heart out on the table. And just like that two years of her own pain and anguish seemed to be paltry and pathetic in comparison to a man that lost the love of his life and had to fight tooth and nail to get back to his children, running across the globe taking money from anonymous corporations who turned on him minutes later and wanted his blood.

Corporations run by people like Richard Jensen. Her husband suddenly disgusted her and she had no idea how she was going to be able to mingle with those same people and fake a smile. She was already finding it harder and harder to go about her normal routine without hating every minute of it. There were emails building up in her inbox that she should care about, but she didn't, the only thing she cared about was getting her affairs in order and waiting until everything was settled and she could call her lawyer.

They sat in silence for ten minutes, before her phone rang and she knew that she was already very late from her lunch break. She had to go. Thankfully Cobb didn't need the obvious explained to him. He stood from the table and grabbed his now cold coffee. "Thank you, Suzanne."

"Don't thank me, Dom." She said quietly. "We both loved her. She would have wanted this."

Cobb nodded and cleared his throat, "I know that Arthur and Ariadne are going to be in contact with you. I am hoping to get this job done soon. I want to have my life back free and clear."

"Arthur knows my number." She said evenly. "I will be unavailable on the 31st due to a work commitment all evening, so we will have to wait until after that."

"I understand."

Cobb extended his hand and Suzanne stared at it for a long moment before she took it hers in a firm handshake. That was it. They would never see eye to eye over what happened. But she couldn't blame him anymore. She could forgive him for Mallorie's sake.

They both deserved it.


	22. Chapter 22

**AN: So this chapter was a bit of a roadblock, but then as always with a little help from two lovely ladies I managed to get on track, to Miss Winter, I give you your fluff before the crap begins, and to Mals, your little idea is in the next part. This is nothing but a calm evening that needed to be written into our calendar…it's December 29****th**** if anyone cares to know the date ; ).**

**Please enjoy, read and review…and yes tasty lemon fluff…mmm I love it.**

* * *

_Los Angeles, California_

_2010_

* * *

There have to be moments in a day where anyone working a stressful job actually wants to push their computer off the front of their desk and just say, "Fuck it I'm out."

Suzanne had been at that point at least three or four times since two o'clock. It was issue after issue with the Fischer Morrow software and trying to integrate their IT department, the e-mail server crashed and she had two missed phone calls from Richard that she didn't even want to think about returning. By the time that six rolled around she had a headache humming behind her eyes and her neck and shoulders were cramped up and aching with stress.

It was time to get the hell out of the office. It was her last night that she would be able to sleep at Eames' place before her husband came home. The last night before the enormity of dealing with her life came crashing down around her and she was forced to finally deal with everything. Just the thought kicked her headache up a notch and sent a twinge down her back. She finally just logged off of her computer, content to ignore everything else that was on her list of things to do, because right now her stomach was screaming for attention with ravenous intensity and she was_ not_ in a position to deny it.

She sauntered out of her office and stopped right in front of Eames' desk. He smiled at her as his fingers clacked away at the keys; he was wearing a light brown suit today with a green shirt that brought out flecks of the color in his grey eyes and he looked utterly delicious. Suzanne looked over to see that Nita was already gone for the day, she was a little surprised, but she noticed that the woman had been leaving early often lately, leaving Eames to wait until she was done.

"They had dinner plans tonight," Eames commented absently, "And I believe that after that they were going to Griffith Observatory to catch a lecture on Optically Violent Variable Quasars."

Suzanne laughed at the playfully serious way that he relayed the couple's plans. "That actually sounds fun, I haven't been up there for a while."

"Do you want to go?"

"No," She sighed, "Though I am starving, but after that I just want to put a heating pad on my neck and vedge out."

Eames clicked 'send' on his last correspondence and logged off his computer as he stood up and grabbed his briefcase, "Is your neck alright, love?"

"Just stress," she answered. "My shoulders always kill me."

"Well, I think that falls in perfectly with my plans this evening." He said as he walked around the desk to stand in front of her, bringing his beautiful mouth close to hers, "I made reservations at Pizzeria Mozza for seven, and then we can go back to my place and enjoy a bottle of wine while I rub you down from head to toe, and alleviate each and _every _ache that you have."

Suzanne couldn't suppress the gasp of anticipation and pure desire that coursed through her at his promise. It was so insanely seductive and she couldn't wait.

:o:o:o:o

Eames sat across from her at their secluded corner table at the trendy, yet cozy restaurant staring like a humble peasant must have stared at divinity on earth in front of Elizabeth the I. Her ebony hair framed her stunning features set on porcelain skin; her green eyes were sparkling with laughter and a little bit of the delicious bottle of _Perricone_ wine stained her already red lips a little more ruby red. She was savoring her glass and dining on the various plates of meats in their antipasti and devouring the creamy caprese salad.

She was making those pleasant little mewling noises that she made when she was really content and enjoying something, and it just made him want her even more. The entire atmosphere just spoke of comfort, lust and above all the sort of insane love that comes along maybe once in a lifetime. He thought that they were doomed because of his selfish choices, but she came back to him, and now he wanted to be with her until the day he died. He wanted to watch grey come into that long black hair and be the one who still held her hand forty years from now, when they thought nothing about traveling around the world and excitement; when they were content to spend their days with one another on the porch of their little home by the sea, side by side watching their grandchildren play.

He reached across the table to take her hand in his and slowly stroked the soft skin, he was lost in his thoughts and when he looked up he was surprised to see the way she was looking at him; with complete and utter devotion. "My God, Annie," His voice was thick with emotion and she brought the hand that was holding hers to her lips, kissing each of his fingers gently before a taking the tip of his index finger into her mouth with a slow swirl of her tongue, and he gasped his pleasure unashamedly. "I love you."

Suzanne smiled gently as she stared at him with adoration, "I love you too."

They managed to pull their eyes away from one another when the delicious coal fired brick oven pizzas came over. Suzanne insisted on a traditional margherita with creamy mozzarella, basil and sweet tomatoes, and one with a little more adventure, fresh tart goat cheese, leeks, scallions and bacon. Eames couldn't help but laugh at the way she freely enjoyed her meal, eating every last bite with a relish of enjoyment.

"That was incredible," She breathed as she wiped her mouth and sipped her wine. "I shouldn't want dessert."

"But you do," He supplied with a wry smile.

"I do."

She settled on a bit of gelato, that he had to admit was not something he needed to be force fed. They were free to choose three flavors and Suzanne settled on plain vanilla, and she _had_ to have peanut butter, and that left Eames with the opportunity for a little pistachio.

When she made a face at his choice he stared back at her, "What's the problem with my choice, love?"

"I don't like pistachios," She answered with a pout.

"You already had two choices," He needled as he leaned forward across the small table, encouraging her to do the same until they were staring at one another with only inches between them. "You don't want to be a glutton, now. Besides how do you know you don't like this _particular_ pistachio laden dessert?"

"I don't know about this_ particular_ dessert, but I've had them before and I didn't like it."

The waiter interrupted them with three little elegant glasses with a single scoop of gelato in each and Eames instantly scooped a bit of the pistachio on the small spoon and offered it to her with a smile. Suzanne reluctantly accepted and she let him feed it to her, and after she swallowed he leaned in to take her mouth in a slow, leisurely kiss; his warm tongue stroking hers and mingling with the remnants of the cold sweet dessert.

"Mmm, now how was that, darling?"

She smiled at him, "Delicious."

:o:o:o:o

When dessert was finished, and they purchased another bottle of wine to take home and enjoy; Suzanne stood up on her slightly food and wine drunk legs and eagerly took his hand as they walked out to her car. She fumbled for her keys for a moment and Eames snatched them away from her with nimble fingers.

"Hey!" She complained as he unlocked the car. "This is _my_ car, I'm driving."

He laughed as he pinned her up against it, letting his body mold against hers and the steel frame. His lips came down to hover over hers, "I'm well aware this is your car, love. But I think you have had one too many glasses of wine, and I'd prefer to take us home. Besides, there are many things one can do in the passenger's seat."

"Is that right," She purred, the wine definitely taking over her thoughts. "I'm not leaning over and going down on you."

She could feel him harden at the suggestion, but instead he simply laughed and stared at her with a salacious grin on his face. "I thought nothing of the sort, darling, you gorgeous dirty little thing. Though now that you mentioned it…"

Her hand snaked up between them to cup his pants with a tight grasp and she smiled, "I do think you promised me a massage, sir, and I think any satisfaction on your end will depend on the results of that."

A wicked gleam flashed in his eyes and she suddenly knew that she was a kitten trying to play submission games with a lion, it was certainly hopeless. "How I love your challenges." He purred as he took her hand and walked her to the other side of the car before climbing in and driving back the short distance to his apartment.

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne never knew why she ever bothered trying to one up him in the seduction department, she was pretty sure that she could spend the rest of her life planning and plotting and still look like an amateur. He insisted that she wait in the kitchen as he fixed his bed, adjusting the pillows and covers just right, before he walked out to meet her.

He uncorked the wine and poured them each a glass, handing her one and taking her by the hand to lead her into the bedroom. Eames took his time undressing her bit by bit until she was completely exposed to him, a masterpiece of pale skin and endless softness.

"Climb on the bed and make yourself comfortable," He instructed as he began to undo his tie. She complied and crawled on the bed, propping herself up on her elbows to stare at him, "On your stomach, love, and close your eyes."

She turned around and rested her face on the pillows, listening to him and closing her eyes as she settled in. She could hear him getting undressed and she bit her lip in anticipation when the bed dipped under his weight, and finally she felt him straddle her, his strong thighs on either side of her slender hips. She took a deep breath as she felt him shift forward, letting out a breathless pant as the long staff of his manhood rested on her backside and his wide, warm palms came up to touch her shoulders.

Eames flexed his fingers into the rock hard knots of muscle that roped from her neck down onto the tops of her shoulders. "Love, you are so tense," He murmured as he began to methodically work the flesh, "And you've been enjoying at least three good orgasms a day, how did you ever make it before that without going insane?"

Suzanne smiled at his playful words as he moved up to the base of her skull before kneading down the length of her spine, "I'm pretty sure I didn't make it." She hissed out in pain as he worked a huge knot in her trapezius muscle. "Ah, oh shit that hurts."

He worked it hard for a few minutes, and like magic it began to release. It didn't take much longer before she was moaning out, not in pain but in absolute drugged bliss at the way his hands were moving all over her body. Her arms, shoulders and back were loose and relaxed and she almost missed the moment that his hands moved down to her slender waist, his thumbs working the dip of flesh right before the curve of her ass.

She gasped as she felt him rise up a little and back off her legs just far enough to lift up her hips a tiny bit and let her knees bend slightly on the mattress. His thighs still kept her legs mostly closed and she shivered when the blunt tip of him, feeling impossibly large in the confined space, began to nudge into her opening. Suzanne marveled at the way she was completely wet from his touch on her skin alone, and it gave him plenty of slickness to slowly work into her inch by inch.

It was too much, he was too much, at this angle, so restricted and tight, he felt unbearably large as he settled in, penetrating her to her limit. Her hands clawed into the sheets as he bumped up against the sensitive barrier of her cervix, sending sparks shooting across her eyes. She was trembling and he reacted instinctively, shifting his weight over her body as he began to rock into her in a fluid motion, his hips flexing, but keeping his thrusts very small, using pressure and friction instead of an in and out motion to stimulate every part of her insides.

Her chest was heaving and she was silently screaming, with her mouth wide open at the onslaught of sensation that was threatening to drive her completely mad. His rhythm began to pick up a little speed and intensity and she cried out as the tip of his cock nudged her limit harder, "Oh, _God_, yes!"

Eames could barely think enough to respond to her, he was too far gone in the ecstasy of having her like this, literally buried in her. He stared down at the flawless skin of her back and the soft round perfection on her ass as it pressed up against his body. A shiver of sensation tickled at the base of his spine and he knew that this position was too intense for him to last. But damn it all if he was going to stop, he could feel her soaking them both with her arousal and as her insides clenched tightly against him, he knew she was close to the type of climax that would have her screaming.

"It feels so good love," He whispered as he worked against her, "So fucking _good_."

"You are so deep, baby," She whined as her body began to go almost numb with pleasure, and then a sensation began in her very core, an overwhelming rush of hormones and blood that made her bury her face into the pillow. She screamed his name at the top of her lungs as her entire lower body exploded in a blinding orgasm.

He groaned at the way she felt- a gush of warmth came and covered him as her inner walls squeezed and he gave a few quick pumps with his hips before he followed her into oblivion, releasing his seed with a low breathy, "_Yessss_."

He was careful to pull out gently as he collapsed beside her, gathering her limp and languid body against his in a loving embrace. His chest was heaving and she was so drugged with haze that her green eyes were half closed, but as he pulled her close he kissed her forehead. There was a timeless moment of peace before his mind started working again; this was the last night that she could be with him like this here. Her husband would be coming home tomorrow night, and after that it would all come to an end. There was no telling after the smoke cleared what would happen.

Suddenly the thought that Richard would try to touch her, overrode anything else in his mind and it made him seethe with anger. She was _his_, they loved each other and there was not another soul he would let have her in any way. He tried to keep his anger and discontent under control as she nuzzled her nose against him, pressing her lips to his chest in a dainty butterfly kiss.

"'Til I die, always," He whispered as he threaded his fingers through her hair.

Suzanne shifted against him as smiled, "I want to get that tattooed as well, what do you think?"

Eames chuckled as he stroked the smooth skin of her back, "And mar the perfection of your flesh, never darling. Though maybe here…" He traced the sensitive skin along her ribs just underneath her breast. "That way only I could see it."

"I think I like that idea," She whispered, "Something just for us, that no one else knows."

He sighed and then channeled his inner poet, remembering one of the many, many sonnets that he had committed to memory over the years, one by a Chilean called Pablo Neruda.

"I do not love you as you were salt-rose, or topaz,

or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved

in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms

but carries itself in the light of hidden flowers;

thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,

risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.

I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;

so I love you because I know no other way than this:

where 'I' does not exist, nor 'you',

so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,

so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep."

She lifted up her head to look at him as tears fell down her cheeks; he was the single most romantic man that she had ever met in her life, and she loved him with a wholeness that could never be matched. "That was beautiful."

Eames quirked his lip and smiled gently as he wiped her eyes, pulling her in for another slow, languid kiss that began to stir the feelings of passion in them once again. He rolled them over and settled on top of her again as he began to pepper her face and her neck with needy kisses. He would take her all night tonight, over and over again, if this was going to be the moment of calm before the storm, he would make sure that they both had something beautiful to hold onto as it raged around them.


	23. Chapter 23

**AN: So here we go…some plot and a little NSFW fun that comes along with being with Eames ; ). Also I wanted to point out, thanks to WinterIsComing01 for reminding me, that I see Richard as bearing a remarkable resemblance to Michael Fassbender. Mostly because that man has some seriously intense eyes and a scary cold voice when he wants to…and it goes without saying that Richard Jensen does NOT look like him below the waist ; ). Although with his attitude, even a third leg isn't going to make Suzanne stay.**

**And thanks to Mals86 we have just a little Nita and Yusuf, because they are too cute not to be in here.**

**Anywho…I hope you all enjoy this little piece. Please, please read and review…it makes me a very happy lady!**

* * *

_Los Angeles, California_

_2010_

* * *

The next morning Suzanne stood in her bedroom and stared at the strapless satin Ralph Lauren dress that Richard had bought for her to wear to the gala tomorrow night. It was gorgeous, blood red with rouching at the waist, and a slit on one leg that would expose up to her lower thigh before falling to the floor in a cascade. She already knew that she'd wear her black Louboutin stilettos, and it would go perfect with the black pearl necklace and earrings that she had gotten for Christmas. An uncomfortable feeling settled on her as she stood in her bedroom and looked at her huge white bed that hadn't been slept in for a week.

She'd spent the last three nights at Eames' place, only coming home in the morning very early, just as she was now, to shower and get ready for work. It was getting harder and harder to leave him. Because even though they made love every night before they fell asleep, it was the way he held her so close that she loved most of all. His arms were always wound tightly around her and their legs were tangled together in a mass of limbs, it was how she hoped to wake up every morning for the rest of her life.

But it wasn't how she would wake up tomorrow.

Richard was due in tonight just before midnight. She would have to spend a night away from her love, and it already made her anxious. She knew that she couldn't sleep with her husband; even to kiss him would be a betrayal that she just couldn't bear to endure. Her throat tightened and tears came to her green eyes that she was helpless to hold back, her stomach twisted in revolt from the emotion and the stress and suddenly she was running to the bathroom, quickly lifting the toilet seat before she threw up the glass of water that she'd drank a few minutes before.

She rested her arm on the edge of the bowl and let her cheek press against it as the waves of nausea began to settle. After a couple of deep breaths she reached under the sink to grab a fresh roll of toilet paper to wipe off her face and she instantly froze when she stared at the box of Tampax tampons that were sitting there. Her mind raced as she recalled something that was so simple, but so important. Yesterday was the 29th; she should have gotten her period in the morning. Suzanne swallowed hard and she stared at the water in the toilet.

She was never late; she always got it every twenty six days, _always._ Her heart began to race and she covered her mouth with a trembling hand, she'd been having sex for the past seven days like a rabbit and she hadn't used anything to protect herself. She'd been so caught up in emotion and overwhelmed by the fury of passion between the two of them that she hadn't even once thought about it. What was wrong with her?!

In the same breath she calmed herself, no, that was fine. That last week would have been fine; it would have been nowhere near when she was ovulating. She stood up and flushed the toilet as she turned to start up the shower, as she slid back the shower curtain back she had a realization that sent a cold shiver down her spine.

The first time that Eames had sex with her in her office it was the 21st, and that _would_ have been the right time.

"No, no, no." Suzanne said out loud to herself. "It's not that. I'm tired and I'm stressed out."

She tried to calm her racing mind as she got into the shower, she needed to pull it together and get a move on, or she was going to be late for work.

:o:o:o:o

Nita sat behind her desk an hour earlier than normal as she worked through a pile of emails that Suzanne hadn't been able to address the past couple of days. She took a sip of her latte and smiled at the thought that she had a sneaking suspicion that she knew exactly what was having her boss call off work at six every night and she had a feeling that reason sat at the desk across from her. Her cheeks flushed as she recalled the way that she'd seen Tom look at Suzanne the past few days.

Now, it's not to say that she was a stranger to the saucy and dirty…she'd gone to college with a bunch of computer geeks after all, and God knows that she was subjected to enough internet pornography to make a girl's head spin. But she was pretty sure that the two of them got it on at a level that was beyond anything ever captured on film.

In fact, yesterday she came back from her morning break early to grab something off her desk and she was quite sure that she heard them in her office. Well, it wasn't like she was trying to be a voyeur, but at the same time she wanted to make sure that everything was alright with her boss. So it was that impulse that made her put her ear up to the door, and after listening for a moment she had to cover her mouth in shock. She could hear the faint sound of heavy breathing and a low voice whispering, but she couldn't make out the words. That accent during sex, my _GOD_, it really must be a religious experience.

She shook her head and came back to reality a moment later. It would not do to be thinking about the two of them like that when they were due into the office very soon. Nita stared down at her day planner and realized that today was the 30th, and that meant Richard was due to be arriving home. She was actually scared about what would happen to Suzanne when he came back. It was going to be practically impossible for her to hide her feelings for the handsome Englishman, and she knew Richard Jensen well enough to know that he wouldn't tolerate Suzanne leaving him.

Nita's train of thought was interrupted, and she smiled as her phone beeped and a text message came across from Yusuf.

_I just wanted to wish you a lovely morning and tell you again how much I enjoyed your company last night. I hope to see you again at lunch today. Until then I am thinking about you._

She blushed despite the fact that she was all alone in the office. She owed Tom so much, she had only known Yusuf for a week and a half, and already she felt closer to him that she had ever felt with anyone else. He was traditional, in the sense that he was conservative when it came to the sexual part of it, making sure to court her with reverence. But there was also the way that he treated her as an equal, taking the time to create a friendship with her that was built on mutual respect.

_I'd love to have lunch. Can we say noon like always? : )_

_Absolutely, I will see you then._

With her lunch date set, Nita got back to work with an extra bounce to her typing.

:o:o:o:o

Eames walked into the office already irritated with the day. Truthfully he'd been irritated since he woke up this morning and looked over at the empty pillow next to him. He pulled it over to smell the sweet smell of Suzanne's lavender lotion and sighed deeply. They'd made love three times during the night. The last two were nothing like the soul shattering explosion of the first time, but still no less fulfilling and incredible. It _had_ to be incredible; it had turned him into an impromptu poet.

But he'd be sleeping alone tonight. He'd be sleeping alone tonight because Richard _fucking_ Jensen would be lying in bed next to his woman.

He sat behind his desk with a huff and dropped off the coffee tray he was carrying that had both of their morning beverages and the two bagels that had somehow become their morning routine. She had made it a habit the last couple of days to eat half of his breakfast and eye the rest, so he figured it was about time that she got her own.

Nita seemed to instinctively know that something was wrong, and she looked up from her work to stare at him, "Good morning, Tom."

"Good morning," he answered mechanically.

Her pretty nose scrunched up and she sighed, "Not even going to pretend today, are you?"

Eames barely caught her sarcasm and laughed out loud before he looked back at her, "Sorry, love; I guess I have a rather piss-poor poker face this morning."

"Well, you don't have to sugar coat it on my behalf; but I would ask that you kindly suck it up when she walks in here. She's going to be a hundred times worse than you are."

Her tone was matter-of-fact and the frank way that the normally jovial woman just let him have it made him smile. But she was right. He may be furious about what was happening, but Annie would have to endure it firsthand. It would be her who was forced to face a smile and return to the life that she hated.

"Thanks for the advice." He finally answered as he turned on his computer and waited for her to come walking in, "My very own karma police, you know normally I have to count on Yusuf to tell me these things."

"Well now you have two of us." Nita answered with a blush.

"Indeed I do."

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne walked into the office a little past eight in the morning, and Eames took a look at her in her smartly tailored black pant-suit, paired with a high collared white silk blouse that played at a Victorian style. Her hair was in a perfectly formed large bun, and her lips were a light pink. She was wearing those high black stilettos on her dainty feet that he loved seeing on his bedroom floor. It made him do a double take, and he was amazed to think that something about the entire outfit seemed to make him want her more than ever.

Eames waited until she walked into her office to get up and bring her breakfast. He pushed open the door and she was already sitting down at her desk, the minute that her pretty green eyes looked up to meet his, he knew that what Nita had said was true. He could tell that she was uneasy.

"I brought you your coffee, darling, and your _own_ bagel this morning." He tried to let the cheeky tone that he normally use filter into his voice, but it was damn difficult.

"Thanks," She said quietly. "I am kind of starving, probably would have stolen yours again."

He smiled and couldn't help but walk behind the desk and turn her chair until he was leaning on the arms and bringing down his forehead to rest against hers. It seemed to be what she needed, because her hands came up to touch his freshly shaven face with a gentle touch, cupping his cheeks as her head tilted just so and she kissed him softly, savoring the feeling of his mouth on hers. Like she was enjoying something sweet, that was going to spoil at any moment.

It was her cell phone on the corner of her desk ringing that finally pulled them apart; her eyes strayed to the caller ID and she closed her eyes, it was a strange international number from Qantas Airlines. It was her husband calling.

"I have to take this." She said quietly.

Eames didn't move and Suzanne could feel her irritation building by the minute, as he remained still, his grey eyes darkening with anger. She finally sat up and grabbed her phone. "Hello."

"Good morning my pet, I just wanted to call you quickly from the air, the flight was late taking off so I should be home around two in the morning; I'd like you to be awake."

Suzanne could feel Eames staring at her with daggers in his eyes, listening to the way Richard spoke to her. "Um, well, I'll try. But I have a full schedule tomorrow so I need to have a decent night's sleep." She explained quickly and succinctly.

"Well, either way, I'll be home. I'll see you then." Richard said, a voice next to him loudly discussing business. "I have to go, pet."

"Goodbye."

The line went dead and Suzanne stared at her desk as she replaced her phone, trying to avoid Eames' eyes. He scoffed loudly and the sarcasm and derision was clear in his voice as he spoke in a low growl, "Pet, hmm? That what he calls you, Annie? That what you are to him, a fucking cute little thing he prances around on a leash with a diamond collar?"

His words hurt, and she could already feel the pangs of a headache coming on, combined with the nausea that was still bothering her hungry stomach, it was making her feel horrible. "I don't want to talk about this, Eames." She whispered quietly.

"I suppose he'll be pumping away inside you in short order, won't he? Eager to claim his property," He continued as he crossed his arms. "I should make sure I leave him a little present deep in there, wonder if he'd even notice how your pussy is stretched to fit _my _cock now."

She stood up out of reflex as blush stained her cheeks and her entire body wheeled around to him. "How dare you talk about me like that?" He merely stared at her with his arms crossed like a petulant child, and it was enough to make her furious. "Is that what I am to _you_, nothing but a pussy that you fuck and mark your claim to? What makes you better than him?"

She was being hurtful on purpose, but he deserved it.

"Get out of my office and get to work."

Eames stared her down, "No."

"No?" Suzanne questioned, "What are you going to do stand there all day and stare; making sure you can still smell yourself on me?"

He walked towards her with a predatory look on his face, backing her against the edge of her desk and letting his hands fall down on either side of her to rest on the shiny surface. His face was a hair's breadth from hers and he leaned over to put his full lips to her ear. "No, you and I are going to go back to my place, where we should have stayed this morning, and we are going to fuck non-stop for the next fourteen hours. I am going to make you come until you beg me to stop, and then I am going to make you do it again."

She stiffened in his arms, still furious with him, but at the same time so unimaginably aroused that she could feel her heart begin to race and blush covered her face. "Do you honestly think after that crude, insulting thing you just said to me, that I am going to fall into bed with you?"

Eames pressed his hips against hers, showcasing the impressive hard-on that he was sporting thanks to the raunchy conversation and the tension that was humming thickly in the air. "You're right, love," he purred in her ear. "I don't want you to fall in my bed. In fact, I don't want to be in my bed at all. I want you be in _your_ bed." His tongue snaked out to take her ear lobe between his teeth, nipping the flesh with a bite. "I want to throw you on those virginal white sheets and make you tear them to shreds with your nails while I'm making you crazy."

Suzanne's chest was heaving and everything below her waist was churning in a wave of hot, molten arousal. There is no way that she could let him into her house, it was too dangerous...but the scent of his cologne mingling with the heat of his skin, so close to her nose made her lose her mind. Any sort of her rational thought dissolved in a musky delicious cloud and all she could think was the fact that as she was sitting here precious seconds were ticking away. Her husband would be home in eighteen hours, they needed this time together.

"Let me clear my calendar," She breathed.

"Fuck your calendar, darling. I want you and I can't wait." He murmured hotly against her neck. "Let's go."

She was a ball of uncontrollable hormones and she blindly reached for her bag and her phone, and grabbing her coffee and breakfast before she walked out of her door with Eames in hot pursuit. She was flushed bright red as she walked up to Nita's desk trying to formulate an excuse for her behavior. "I don't feel well," was all she could manage.

Nita took one look over her shoulder at where Eames would have been standing, and her brown eyes snapped up a moment later to meet Suzanne's. "You don't look good," She answered in a remarkably serious tone, "You should head home. I'll take care of your day; there isn't much on the schedule anyway."

Suzanne nodded and turned away when her assistant's voice spoke up again with an odd, but knowing tone. "Actually, I don't know if you are well enough to drive. Tom, you should take her to make sure that she gets there alright."

Eames was at her side only a moment later, his arm around her shoulder as he wordlessly led her to the elevator and outside to her parking space. Neither one of them made eye contact with anyone as they left the building. Suzanne knew that she was treading on thin ice, and that this was going to come back and bite her in the worst way, but she didn't care anymore.

:o:o:o:o

They barely made it into her house. She quickly typed the security code to disable the alarm and as her shaking hands managed to open the door and step inside he was on her. Eames pressed her against the wall in the foyer and began to kiss her with ravenous hunger. His lips, teeth and tongue took hers with an intensity that she was all too eager to match. He suddenly reached down to cup her ass in his palms as he encouraged her to jump up and twine her long legs around his waist as he walked towards the stairs and up to her bedroom as if he was right at home in her place.

He stopped in the hall to lean against the wall for support and catch his breath for a second as he stared at her, "It's a shame I wasn't thinking straight, I really wanted to make use of that kitchen table. If I remember correctly we are good in the kitchen together."

He was referring to the sturdy antique butcher block table in his Paris flat, it was the first place he had ever made love to her, and in the wonderful month that they'd spent there- it had been a constant source of joy.

"We'll have plenty of time on our own table," She whispered as she kissed him again. "Right now just take me to bed, Edward." A wolfish grin slid across his mouth as he deftly carried her into the cavernous space of the master bedroom, walking over to the bed and tossing her on the California King with a playful bounce.

He paused and looked at her, as if he finally had her just where he wanted her and now he wasn't quite sure what to do. It was like a kid rushing downstairs on Christmas morning to stare at a treasure trove of presents and having to wonder just where to begin with it all. The momentary pause was enough for Suzanne to raise her eyebrow expectantly and stare at him, "Is there something wrong, _darling_? Please don't tell me that you've suddenly gone all soft on me."

There was a dirty little double entendre in her words that he couldn't help but chuckle at. "Gone soft?" He repeated as he shucked his coat, undid his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, sending that to the floor as well before he stood in front of her in nothing but his black suit pants that were visibly tenting. His eyes stayed fixed on hers as he opened and removed his belt, tossing it with everything else before he unclasped his pants and slowly let the zipper down. "Does it look like it, love?"

Suzanne was watching with rapt interest as the slacks fell to the ground and he kicked them off along with his shoes and socks, leaving him standing at the foot of her bed completely naked. And what a sight it was. He let her stare and she felt a sense of unreal possessiveness as she looked at the cut of every one of his hard muscles, his incredible gorgeous cock standing up proudly, and when she saw her initials in ink on that masterpiece she slid off the bed and stood in front of him fully clothed. On her five inch stilettos and with him barefoot, she was taller than he was. It made her feel an odd sense of power and she looked down into his eyes.

"No, it certainly doesn't," She smiled lustily. "I don't think it ever does."

"Not around you, love." Eames admitted freely. "Now, I rather think I like this dichotomy we have here. But I'm afraid that clothes doesn't equate to power today, so get on the bed." His voice dropped to a low husky growl and she shivered as she slowly complied.

He crawled on top of her, and settled his heavy weight between her legs as they sank into the voluminous acres of white downy soft comforter that surrounded them. There was a strange look on his face as he looked into her eyes with an almost vulnerable and boyish look. "Was he good to you on your wedding night?"

Suzanne swallowed hard and stared up at him, unsure of what he was getting at. She wasn't sure how they had turned so quickly to a place that hurt him so much, hadn't he wanted to be here? His eyes pleaded for an answer and she closed hers to remember how empty she felt that night, how lost and lonely she was. A tear escaped from beneath her eyelids as she whispered the truth out loud, "I kept my eyes closed the whole time." Her throat hurt and she confessed the awful truth of a night that should have been the most romantic of her entire life, "I pretended that it was you."

"Annie," He breathed as he took her lips in a deep, slow kiss, not pulling away until they were both gasping for air. He suddenly was up and literally tearing the clothes from her body, first her suit coat, then his hands came up to the high collar of her button up shirt and he tore it in two, paying no mind to the buttons that went flying. He stripped off her shoes, her pants, and then he was left staring at her pale pink lingerie. With a look of absolute frustration he sighed as he stripped them off as well, rolling her nude thigh-high nylons down off her legs.

"I really, really wanted to leave these on…" He was half talking to himself, and she smiled at the debate, until he looked up at her. "But I want nothing between us today."

Suzanne felt her body instantly mold with his as her legs twined around his waist and her hot slick core, easily guided his swollen tip right to where it needed to be. It felt so natural; being with Eames like this was like breathing, something that her body craved and required to function normally, and as he slid home…perfection.

He started a slow pace, before he lifted his head to kiss her and froze when he stared at the black and white wedding portrait that was on her husband's bedside table. Suddenly there was a feeling of rage and a primal territorial response that surged through his body. She was his, and he wanted to hear her say it. Without a word, Eames withdrew from her body and leaned down to her ear, "I want you to turn around and kneel, and then I want you to put your hands on the headboard." A visible tremor went through her and he watched her green eyes go wide with an intoxicating mixture of lust, apprehension and fear; but she complied with his request.

Eames stared at her back, marveling at the way her hair was still pinned up in a perfect bun. His fingers methodically freed the shiny ebony locks, and he moved right in behind her, letting one rough palm sit on her slender hip while his other hand helped to guide his cock back to her body. He thrust forward and speared in with one almost brutal snap of his hips and began a savage dance. Suzanne cried out at the onslaught, moaning her satisfaction as her hands tightened on the padded white satin headboard.

She felt the heat of his skin against her back, and she gasped as his other hand gently came up to wind around her throat; combined with the one on her hip it rendered her completely at his mercy. He was relentlessly working her from the inside and she was having trouble catching her breath through the force of his passion.

"You are mine," He growled into her ear.

Normally Suzanne would have been livid with such a statement. But she knew what he was getting at, what was driving the animal inside him. They were in her marital bed, the place where another man had claimed her- and he was going to tear that apart bit by bit.

"Tell me you belong to me," Eames snarled as his hips punished her. "Tell me!"

Her head fell back onto his shoulder and she freely moaned, "I'm yours…I belong to you, Edward."

It was what he wanted, as the words tumbled from her lips the hand on her throat slightly tensed as the one on her hip slid around to the front, searching out the place they were joined to tease the taut bundle of nerves that was already straining with arousal and soaked with the proof of it. She opened her mouth in a breathy scream as his fingers circled it with expert pressure and strokes. "Mmm, harder," She managed to gasp, "You are gonna make me come."

"Beg me," Eames taunted as he slowed his thrusts to an unbearably slow, deep push. "Please, love, I want to hear you beg."

Her body was tingling, and Suzanne felt no shame as she wantonly licked her lips, "Please, baby." Her voice dropped to a breathy whine, "Please, make me come, I need it. Give it to me, like only you can, please baby, please, please…" She repeated it over and over like a seductive mantra that he could barely stand to hear without dying of bliss. It was beautiful, something he wanted to listen to every night for the rest of his life. He instantly complied, picking up the speed and marveling at the way that she instantaneously responded. Her insides gushed with sweet nectar as her velvety soft inner walls squeezed him like an impossibly tight sheath, she was so damn close.

"Come for me, darling," He whispered in her ear, "Let me feel you."

It all wound up inside her as a tight a coil, twisting and twisting, until finally in a wave of ecstasy she broke on him. Suzanne wailed out her pleasure, her chest heaving as her inner walls fluttered and pulsed, but he didn't stop. Eames was determined to have it happen again, and he kept up the rhythm. He played her body like a precious, well-tuned instrument, and it wasn't long before she shuddered and quaked again, coming harder and longer than she had the first time. The beautiful sight of her mouth hanging open in a euphoric scream was what finally sent him over the edge; he surrendered to the warm tingling surge of electricity that slithered down his spine and tickled from his balls to the unbearably hard skin of his cock. He grabbed her hip tight enough to mark, as he pushed in to her very limit before he flooded her with his seed.

They both collapsed into a sweaty, boneless heap, panting and gasping for air as the wonderful afterglow aced through their bodies. "That was insane," Suzanne murmured as she rested her head on his broad chest.

"Mmm," Was the only sound that Eames could manage at first, "My God, love, I think you killed me."

"Me?" She protested with a sly smile, "You were the one that degenerated into some sex crazed caveman. I am genuinely surprised there wasn't hair pulling."

He laughed warmly and his hand reached across his body to slap her playfully on the bottom, "It was only because I didn't have another hand, darling, trust me, that hair of yours is just aching for a good pull."

She rolled her eyes and she scrunched her nose when a thought came out of nowhere. "I think Nita knows about us."

"Oh?" The tone of his voice indicated that he was anything but surprised with the way the conversation was going.

"Yeah, you sound really shocked."

"She's brilliant, love, you said it. She figured it out the second day I was there." He explained with a laugh, "Who do you think kicked my bloody fool ass in gear and got me to Boston for Christmas? We owe that woman."

"Nothing new, I always owe her something." It was the absolute truth, and now she had to give her that massive raise she had been debating. Suzanne smiled as her stomach rumbled loudly, she was starving. She wasn't sure where her bagel was, but it wasn't going to do her much good anyway. She wanted a full breakfast with bacon and eggs and maybe a biscuit, with cheese…fast food was suddenly all she could think about.

"I want breakfast, baby."

"You little ravenous thing, please tell me this appetite is your ass beginning to thicken back up with luscious curve," Eames grinned. "We can do take away from the Nickel Diner, they have out of this world pancakes and French toast."

"Oooh, pancakes sound amazing," She answered as she lifted her head up to kiss him. "Then I want pizza for dinner later, and I want to eat it in bed."

"As you wish, love."

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne couldn't remember the last time she enjoyed something as much as the baked pancake smothered in caramelized apples that she had for breakfast and the somewhat decent excuse for a New York style thin crust pizza they had for dinner. But it was fuel that was definitely needed. Eames made good on his promise, and they made love constantly for the rest of the day. By the time the sun set, her bed was a mess, the sheets were wrinkled and sweaty, and everywhere she could smell the wonderful musk of his cologne. It was the closest she'd come to feeling like she was in Paris again, and it was perfect.

"I adore that shower; we should get in again," Eames suddenly spoke up with a smile, in reference to the fact that he managed to discover a rather creative way to use the multiple jets of water to massage her in a perfect spot. It gave him all sorts of freedom with his hands, and for the first time since Richard insisted on installing the system, she was grateful for his frivolous and expensive tastes.

"I don't think I can stand up for another hour," She answered as she flipped on the TV by the bed and absently moved through the channels. "A bath I'd be all for." Her green eyes flitted to the antique alarm clock on her nightstand and she frowned, it was already coming up on 10 pm. He would need to get going soon, because she had to wash and dry the sheets and get ready for her husband to come home.

His arms tightened around her, knowing what she was thinking, and she instantly began to crumble under the weight of it. She rolled over to lean into him as the tears fell freely and she couldn't help but tell him what she was sure they were both feeling. "I just want to run, Edward. I can't do this; I can't let him touch me. I can't!"

"Shhh," He soothed her gently as he kissed her forehead and rubbed her back as her sobs wracked her body.

"I promise…I won't touch him…" She said through her tears.

Suzanne felt him swallow hard and his voice was strained when he spoke. "Annie, my love, please don't cry." She wiped her eyes and looked up at him, sighing as his hand came up to take her tears away, soothing her with just a touch. "This is only a couple of days, a week at the most, and I've waited two years for you. I can survive just fine I assure you."

He was trying to comfort himself as much as he was trying to help her, and it was more than apparent in his weak smile. His beautiful mouth curved in the act, but it didn't reach his eyes. He looked as haunted as she did. Suzanne didn't know how to give back the same comfort that he had shown her, and she settled for silence, when suddenly a desperate and emotional voice came through from the TV behind them.

…_My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I __am__ Heathcliff - he's always, always in my mind - not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself - but as my own being;__ so, don't talk of our separation again - it is impracticable…_

She whipped around to see that once again she'd managed to find the same program on the BBC, as if God and Emily Bronte were playing a joke on her for the second time. Even Eames managed a genuine laugh at the exasperated look on her face; his eyes were twinkling with amusement as he prodded her. "Oh, look, it's you Cathy."

Her face scrunched as she stared down at him, "Wouldn't that make you the psychopath, Heathcliff?"

He shrugged as he flipped her onto her back, listening to the movie in the background, "I suppose it does; care for me to recite my tortured soul to you, darling?"

Suzanne shrugged as she stared at the screen, "I don't know if you have to, this guy seems really good- he's incredibly attractive too. I think I'll be just fine with him."

Eames growled as he snatched the remote and flicked off the TV, leaning down to take her mouth in a hungry kiss that warmed her to her toes before he made love to her again. This time they savored it, each thrust, each gasp of breath and each pleasured noise, knowing that it could be a while before they could be like this again. But when they were, they'd truly be free. It was the only thing that Suzanne held on to with all her heart.

:o:o:o:o

Eames called for a cab a little after eleven. She stood at one of the windows and watched him until the tail lights were nothing but a red blink in the darkness, the taste of his kiss was still tingling on her lips, and she could smell him all over her body. With a heavy heart she stripped the bed and threw the sheets in the washer, and cleaned up the remnants of their guilty, calorie laden meals. She couldn't help but munch on the last bit of cold pizza as she took out the garbage and returned the kitchen to its former pristine and unused condition. It took her just long enough to clean so she could throw the sheets into the dryer and go upstairs to take a shower.

She stood in the hot water and tried to breathe as she shaved her legs and under her arms, washing her hair and returning to the woman that she needed to be. She had just enough time to dry her hair and slide on her satin night gown, before she walked to retrieve the sheets and remake her bed. For extra freshness she spritzed a little lavender linen spray onto the warm cotton sheets. After making one last pass of the house to make sure that everything was just as it should be, she turned off the lights and crawled into bed.

The clock read a little after one in the morning. He would be home within the hour.


	24. Chapter 24

**AN: Oh my, I just have to get this out, it is rough…rough…rough…but I have to do it!**

**Because nothing at all goes on here…nothing at all ; )**

**Please, please, read and review! **

**And if anything is ghastly and needs to be edited I shall do so…I promise!**

* * *

_Los Angeles, California_

_2010_

* * *

Eames stood completely nude in his kitchen pacing back and forth like a caged tiger, he'd been home for two hours, but sleep would not come. His eyes kept focusing on the electronic clock on the stove as it neared closer and closer to two am. It felt like a doomsday clock that was counting down to his execution. Richard Jensen was due home any minute, and it was literally taking everything that he had not to go back to that house and wait for him in person. His hands curled into fists and he finally stormed over to the cupboard and grabbed a bottle of scotch, not even bothering to be civilized enough to drink out of a glass as he took a pull off the bottle.

He wanted to stand toe to toe with that piece of shit and tell him that he was taking his woman. That she never loved him, and that he'd owned her heart before Richard even set eyes on her. But he couldn't do that to Annie, he respected and loved her too much to do anything like that. Besides there was always the company gala that he hadn't given much thought to, but right now it seemed like a foregone conclusion that he would be going tonight. It would be the perfect opportunity to keep his eye on her as well as keep abreast to whatever shady business dealings that wanker Dickie-boy was up to.

But as for now, now was a good time to drink until he forgot how bad his heart ached for her.

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne lay wide awake in her silent room staring at the clock and counting down the minutes. She was curled up on the very edge of the enormous bed, giving an open expanse that wouldn't encourage any sort of close contact. Suddenly she heard the front door open and her heart began to hammer in her chest as she heard movement on the first floor, and up the stairs. When the bedroom door opened she closed her eyes tightly and tried to even out her breathing to pretend that she was fast asleep. She could smell the sharp, almost metallic smell of Richard's cologne, and she heard him walk into the bathroom and shut the door, the water starting up as he took a shower.

Ten minutes later he walked out of the bathroom and towards the bed. She tried to control the way that she was trembling as the covers were lifted up and he slid underneath them. She hoped that he would take the hint from her lack of movement that she was asleep, but her body went ram-rod straight when she felt him roll over behind her and slide her ponytail off her shoulder to expose the skin of her neck. His thin lips kissed her gently before he whispered in her ear, "I'm home, my pet."

Suzanne opened her eyes slowly to look at him, noticing his sharp, chiseled features in the moonlight, instantly cataloguing the ways that his face was different that Eames'. He was looking over her face with his icy blue stare and she managed a smile as she spoke. "How was your flight, honey?"

"Terrible as always," He yawned as he put his arm around her waist and pulled her into the middle of the bed and against the firm wall of his lean chest. She was infinitely grateful at the fact that he had put on a shirt and sleep pants. "What are you doing all the way over there?"

"Oh," She answered quietly, "Just not used to having another person to share with."

His fingers played along the hem of her nightgown, stroking the skin of her thigh, and Suzanne held her breath as he kissed her shoulder, his mouth came up to her ear and he spoke in a husky whisper that chilled her to the bone. "Care to share something else with me, pet? I've been thinking about it all day."

So he'd been thinking about her today, that was nice, she'd been making love non-stop with another man. A man whose touch she was craving right now like the air she was breathing. "I'm really, really tired honey," Suzanne managed to answer, "I'm sorry." It was enough for him to sigh and roll over, so she knew that she was safe for at least the moment.

:o:o:o:o

The next morning she was exhausted, but somehow Suzanne managed to get up and out of bed at six without her alarm going off. She slept horribly, and she just wanted to get out of the house. It was bad enough knowing that the gala was tonight and she was going to be expected to be at her husband's side all night like and adorably painted doll. She was to look flawless, smile and keep her mouth shut. She rolled her eyes as she started the shower and just before she stepped into the water, her stomach was at it again. It rumbled loudly and she was on her knees with her head in the toilet, heaving and gasping for breath as she gagged and dry heaved for a moment or two.

She really needed to take a stop at the pharmacy on the way to work. As if she needed anything else to make her life more stressful. How was she going to tell Eames? She was going to have to wait until the entire situation with Cobb was finished and she had left her husband, because she knew that there was no way in hell he was going to let her out of his sight the minute that he found out that she was carrying his child.

With a sigh she stood back up and climbed in the shower, staring down at her still flat stomach. Her hand came up to gently rest on the tight muscle, and she tried to imagine what she would look like when she had a huge belly. Would he still find her beautiful? A wry smile curved her lips and she knew that she would need a lot more than a stomach full of baby for Eames to keep his hands off of her, and then there was the awareness that her breasts would swell and her ass would definitely follow…he'd certainly get his wish about her figure.

In fact she's so far gone in her day dreaming that she misses the moment that Richard walks into the bathroom and she freezes as she notices his blurry silhouette through the glass wall of the shower.

"Are you almost done?" He asked as he stripped off his white shirt.

"Actually I just got in," She blurted out quickly. "Can you give me like ten minutes?"

"I suppose I'll shave first then," He grumbled, "You have ten minutes and then I am getting in."

Suzanne rolled her eyes and quickly scrubbed down her body, thankful that she had washed her hair last night. "I have an appointment at two this afternoon at the spa to get a massage and to get my hair done and a manicure for tonight," She announced absently, "I'll be taking Nita with me, she has earned a little extra something for all the hard work she's done lately."

She could hear him rinse his razor and tap it against the sink, "I suppose that is fine, but who is going to run the software department for the afternoon?"

"I don't know, Richard, I suppose the support center that runs it while I am normally not on the premises." It wasn't intended to be quite that sarcastic, but it got the point across. Suzanne stepped out of the shower and left the water running for him as she toweled off and fluffed her hair in front of her half of the his-and-hers sink.

He sighed and rinsed his face as he stared at her with a critical eye as he grabbed a hand towel. "Been lax on your workout routine during the holiday, pet?" He asked with a raised brow.

She stopped dead and turned to look at him with an irritated look on her face, "Excuse me?"

"I'm just noticing that you seem to have lost some firmness in your stomach is all, and I spoke to Raoul yesterday about catching up with my routine and he told me he hasn't seen you since the fourteenth of the month. It isn't hard to put together."

Suzanne felt her face go bright red with anger and she stared at the mirror as her temper started to get the better of her. She wanted to tell him that she hadn't seen his damn trainer because she'd been fucking someone that was so incredible that his workouts were far superior to anything she could get in a gym; but she simply sighed and answered with a slightly snide tone, "Yes, well, I've been busy dealing with the Fischer Morrow situation that got dropped into my lap, I haven't really been in the mood to do pilates, sorry."

Richard turned to her with a sigh, "Darling I didn't say it to be critical, I was merely making an observation." He leaned in and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek before he stared at her with a sigh. "You should head-off without me this morning; I have a meeting at eight."

She gave a half smile that was more of a practiced move than anything else, and walked into the bedroom to get ready and get the hell away from him. Just the way that he said, "darling" infuriated her to no end, it was patronizing, whereas Edward's voice always had a hint of affection and love when he said it…even when he'd taunted her it still was full of passion.

"Fine, I'll see you in the office."

:o:o:o:o

Eames woke up face down on his bed, with the worst headache he'd even felt in his life. He groaned into his pillow and turned to look at the clock, it was already quarter till eight, there was no way that he was getting his ass out of bed today and going to work. In fact, he needed to get a tuxedo for tonight and possibly talk to Arthur about what he had planned to do. He sat up and groaned as he tried to lick his parched lips to no avail, it was disgusting. He leaned over and grabbed his phone to dial Suzanne's phone, knowing that he was at least going to call out properly.

"Hello," She answered breathlessly. He could hear talking in the background and he gathered she was at a store of some sort.

"G'morning, love," he said as he scratched his stomach, trying to keep his hand away from his stirring manhood. It was already half-hard at her voice alone, despite his pounding head. "Damn it I miss you in my bed."

She laughed gently into the phone and it sent a tremor of lust through him. "I miss you too, baby. You sound like shit, have a little scotch after you got home last night?"

"Mmm, more than a little, I'm not coming in to work. I hate to do this, but I have a tuxedo to get before tonight. Can't show up to Dickie-boy's little soiree and not look my best."

"The company sort of looks down on employees calling out sick and then attending functions later on." Suzanne playfully taunted him.

Eames smiled and bit his lip, loving every minute of talking to this woman. "Does the company also frown on employees bending their boss over her desk and fucking her brains out? You'll make a little excuse for me I'm sure."

"I'm hanging up, Edward," She said quietly, a smile more than evident in her voice. "I'll see you tonight, then?"

"You will, my love."

"I love you."

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne stood in her small en suite bathroom in her office a couple hours later and stared down at the piece of plastic, it was simple, pee on the stick and wait. Ninety seconds later a little "+" or "-" sign would determine the rest of her life. She took a deep breath and lifted her skirt, taking down her panties and angling the little test so she could get a good sample, and then she put it on the counter of the sink. She absently washed her hands as she tried not to stare at the thing.

She crossed her arms as the counted in her head and began to think of all the things that would need to be done for the divorce. She had signed a prenuptial agreement, so there was no way in hell that she was getting any of Richard's money. Not that she wanted it anyway. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more and more it became easy.

Before they had gotten married she'd transferred all of her personal assets into an account in her parent's name, at last check it was somewhere around $325 thousand. As any employee vested in a company, she would be entitled to the 401K and mutual fund money that had been deducted from her paycheck in the past 2 years- that was close to 1 million, and after that, all she really wanted was her clothes, her shoes and her car. All of those had been purchased on her _own_ credit card and financed in her own name.

He could have everything else, her job, the house; she just wanted her freedom that was it. She'd even take the blame; she'd file for 'irreconcilable differences' or whatever nonsense they used these days for two people who never should have gotten married.

Unconsciously her eyes went over to the stick and she could feel the tears form in her eyes, because there it was, plain as day- a "+". She was pregnant.

She was going to have Eames' baby.

Suzanne was a myriad of emotion, shock, nerves, panic, excitement, and there was also a profound feeling of sadness. It shouldn't be like this. It should be the happiest moment of her life. She wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and open them again and be anywhere else, perhaps traveling through Europe somewhere. She could see herself walking into a beautiful open air villa in Santorini with a smile on her face as he was sitting in his robe eating breakfast, possibly sunning himself nude if the mood struck, and she would roll the stick up in his morning paper. She tried to imagine the look on his face; he had been so ravenous on Christmas night with the thought of her carrying his child that they ended up in the hayloft on a wool blanket.

How would he react with the actual news?

She wanted nothing more than to call him. But she couldn't, if he knew, it would all be over. There was no way that he would wait until the job was done; he loved her too much for that.

So instead she carefully put the test back in the cardboard box and rolled it up in toilet paper and buried it at the bottom of her trash where no one would find it.

:o:o:o:o

The day went on without much in the way of events, Suzanne was able to get a decent amount of work done, granted that was because over the past few days Nita had seen to it that almost everything was already taken care of. It made her smile to know that she could confidently name her as a successor and know that her hard work would be in capable hands. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that if she left, Nita would probably not be very far behind her.

She finished the last bit of work on the Fischer Morrow IT updates, and looked at her clock, it was noon. That left two hours to have lunch and get to the spa. It was the perfect thing to surprise her co-worker and friend with.

Suzanne logged off of her computer and gathered her things, walking out into the lobby to see Nita getting ready to leave for lunch. "Are you off to lunch?" She asked with a smile.

"Yes," Nita answered with a blush on her cheeks, "I am meeting Yusuf downstairs and then we are trying to decide where to go."

She bit her lip, somewhat nervous about intruding on her plans, "Oh, that's cool."

Nita's thoughtful brown eyes fell on Eames' empty desk and she smiled, "Would you like to join us?"

"If I'm not a bother, though it is going to blow my surprise to say that we have a place to be at one, I had planned for us to have a little spa day to get ready for the gala tonight. Hair, make-up, massage, nails, you name it." Suzanne explained with a smile. "I owe you so much lately, I'd like to say thank you."

Her entire face blanched, "Oh, Suzanne, no, you don't have to do that."

"I really do." She insisted with a self-deprecating laugh. "If not for the crap-ton of work that you have done these last few weeks, then for what you did for me over Christmas. I know it was you that told him to come after me, and I am infinitely grateful for that."

A sly smile broke across her face and she winked at her, "Well, I didn't have a clue with what I was going to do with my hair tonight, so I suppose that I'd be lying if I told you that I wasn't interested in the invitation."

"Come on," Suzanne smiled, "Let's get the hell out of here."

:o:o:o:o

It was a beautiful sunny Southern California afternoon and Suzanne was enjoying her lunch and her company. It had been a little tricky when Nita was obsessed with the idea of having sushi for lunch, though. She had made the suggestion because she knew that Suzanne loved it, and normally that would have been a completely accurate statement. That was until she stared at that little piece of plastic this morning and everything changed. But it wasn't too hard to pass off; she was able to order tempura veggies and a California roll without anyone batting an eye.

But she was less inclined to care about the food in front of her as she was to sit and talk with Nita and her handsome and considerate lunch date. She had only met him once before in Vancouver, and God knows that meeting was cut short when she ran out on dinner and retreated to her room because her and Eames were too busy trying to do everything in their power to make each other hurt. It was almost incredible to think that was only three weeks ago. It felt like another life, another time, when her world was a sad black and white reflection of the kaleidoscope of color that she lived in now.

Now she was able to smile and laugh at the smart and insightful way that Yusuf talked about everything.

"So, Suzanne, it is so wonderful to finally have a chance to speak with you," He said as he wiped his mouth and sipped on his mineral water. "I hear so many wonderful things from Nita, and of course there is the myriad of things I have heard from our mutual acquaintance."

She laughed gently and shook her head, "I have no doubt that they are exaggerated, both because Nita is far too kind, and because the gentleman in question has a talent for spinning tales."

Yusuf raised his index finger with a smile, "Not where you are concerned. You are his unicorn; he regards you with such devotion and grace, something that I have never known him to show to anyone." Suzanne was blushing and his deep brown eyes sparkled with obvious affection for his friend. "And you and I both know to tame a spirit like he has, you must be something special."

"Tame, Eames?" Suzanne said, instantly freezing the moment that his name left her mouth. Her green eyes flitted up to Nita's face and she was surprised to see nothing but a small smirk on her assistant's mouth.

"I graduated MIT with a 4.0, majoring in organic chemistry; did you think that I wouldn't figure out that something was up?" Nita smiled, looking over at Yusuf. "It just so happens that one of my professors was doing 'research' into manufacturing sleeping compounds for the military. The moment that Yusuf took me to Cal Tech I knew what he was doing, and I remembered that gentleman and young woman who came to visit you not long ago, they had a PASIV machine. And because they had to show ID at the door I was able to trace the woman to Paris and the same school that you attended for architecture. I mean, I don't know exactly what is going on, but I know that a man you were in love with wouldn't be something as boring as an ex-banker."

"Wow," Suzanne huffed, amazed that she really was that damn good. "But that still doesn't explain you knowing Eames' name."

Nita laughed as she took a sip of her drink and blushed, "That's simple, you, um, weren't particularly quiet when you were together in your office the other day."

Her eyes went as big as saucers and she suddenly wanted to slink into a little puddle under the table to get away from the mortification she was currently feeling. "Oh," Was all she could manage to say.

"Don't be ashamed," Nita blurted out, "It was rude of me to listen."

Suzanne covered her face with her hands, "We need to change the subject before I die of mortification."

"You needn't be embarrassed," Yusuf added, "Passion and love that pure is something to be celebrated."

:o:o:o:o

The two women enjoyed a lovely meal and Suzanne left the new couple a moment alone so they could say good bye to one another properly before she grabbed her car and pulled up front of the building to pick up Nita. It would be easier to drive one car to the appointment, that way she could swing by to drop her off later before heading home to get ready. She had made the appointments at Argyle Salon and Spa, and while it wasn't the most exclusive in the city, they always did a wonderful job with her hair and makeup.

It was funny, she was really a simple girl at heart, and it was more the fact that Nita was savoring every minute of the indulgence that she enjoyed more than the pampering herself. Then again, there was something to be said, that the $230 an hour massage paled in comparison to the one that she had a couple days ago at Eames' hands.

Nita's hair looked absolutely flawless blow dried and straightened, the natural volume and shine of her chocolate locks made the entire salon envious, and Suzanne included when she required very little make up to make her skin glow. She was absolutely stunning.

Suzanne shook her head as she stared at her own reflection in the mirror, she could already envision the way that Richard would want her to wear it. In a high, tight twist, with not a hair out of place, and Edward- he'd want it loose and free, in soft waves and curls that he could touch throughout the night. She chewed her lip as she tried to imagine him in a tuxedo, with his hair styled with a freshly shaven face, goddamn, it was making her mouth water.

"I'd like it down," She explained, "Just with some big curls at the ends, and a super red lip on the makeup."

"That looks amazing on you," Nita commented as the hairdresser fluffed out her hair, "I love that you are wearing it down."

"Richard will hate it," Suzanne answered, trying not to roll her eyes.

"But, I have a feeling that _someone_ will like it." Her sing-song voice taunted.

"Yeah, me," She answered sticking out her tongue.

Her eyes glanced up to the clock, just a few more hours of peace before the curtains parted and she'd be left to perform. Her heart was already racing at the thought of Eames and Richard in the same room, how was she going to do this? How was she going to stand like a porcelain doll next to her husband and show nothing to the world, while her body called out for the love of her life and the father of her unborn child.


	25. Chapter 25

**AN: And here we have the party…oh, my. This was just too damn fun. Honestly.**

**There are a few movie lines hidden in here, well, they aren't hiding very hard…but I think they work rather well, and I have been dying to use them for quite some time. Kudos if you can find them. And as always I have to nod to Mals and Winter for their continual inspiration and encouragement. Love you ladies : ).**

**Please read and **_**review**_**…it makes me smile! Honestly!**

* * *

_Los Angeles, California_

_2010_

* * *

She felt like everything her mother had told her never to be. Trussed up in her designer dress with her hair flowing and her makeup perfect, Suzanne was playing at being nothing more than a pretty thing to be paraded around like an elegant trophy; something to be seen and not heard. She was reminded of the derisive way that Eames had asked her if Richard treated her like his little pet with a diamond collar. A sad smile curved her blood red lips as she looked around the back of the Maybach that they were riding in to the gala party at the SLS Hotel in Beverly Hills.

It certainly looked that way.

She was cinched up in a lace bustier under her satin dress that helped pull her waist and her curves into the appropriate waif like figure that her husband desired. Her dress had been tailored to a size two, and as Suzanne sat up straight in the soft leather seat of the car, she cursed the way she'd cheated on her diet as of late. Well, eating was certainly off the menu tonight. She frowned as she realized that drinking was also off the menu. There was going to be no vodka martinis and champagne to dull the monotony of Richard and his friends patting themselves on the back for being the 'Masters of the Universe'. Ugh, this was going to be truly painful.

Suzanne opened her red satin clutch and pulled out her mirror to double check her makeup, it was flawless, thick kohl liner brought out her green eyes and a very light smoky grey shadow and long lashes finished the look. Her skin was dusted to be perfectly pale, and her lips matched her dress in shade and intensity. Her ebony hair was like a silky curtain with just enough curl at the ends to give it volume. As she had originally thought, her husband hated the fact that her hair was loose. He complained that it drew attention from her necklace and earrings, the conservative string of black pearls on her throat were only partially visible, and he made a point of saying that there would be Board members that were on the Christmas trip to Tahiti that should see them.

She'd studiously ignored his comments and it was most likely the reason that he was sitting less than two feet away from her, and it felt like a thousand miles. She chanced a glance at him and it had to be noted that he was immaculate. His tailored tuxedo fit like it was a second skin, and his gelled hair and the line of his aristocratic features let him stand out as a modern prince, the new type of 21st century royalty, a man of business that spanned the globe. She wrinkled her nose at the harsh, biting smell of his cologne, it seemed to go right into her and it turned her stomach, her eyes looked away from him to stare at the lights of the hotel through the tinted windows of the car as they pulled up.

Richard looked at her and she smiled with a false and practiced ease- on with the show.

The door of the car was held open for her as she gathered her dress and stepped out on her sky high black stiletto heels. Her husband was at her side a moment later, extending his arm with a crook of the elbow so she could slide her hand in and smile to the flashbulbs and video cameras that surrounded them. To anyone looking they appeared to be the perfect power couple, beautiful, untouchable- something that the everyday person on the street only dreamed of ever being. But as always, appearances are never ever what they seem.

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne stood next to Richard as her eyes scanned the ballroom, looking around for a friendly face in the sea of people. There was nothing but designer clothes and empty people parading about, kissing her on the cheek, commenting on how beautiful she was and how lucky her husband was to have her, it was stifling.

She slowly sipped at her straw, enjoying her crystal tumbler of seltzer water and lime that she was desperately trying to imagine as a dirty martini. The entire alcohol question had been answered in moments, when the waiter approached her and her husband she merely spoke up and told him that she wasn't feeling well and wanted to sip on something to settle her stomach. Richard didn't care, he merely sipped his gin gimlet at made small talk with everyone who came by to congratulate him for a wonderful party.

"Sweetheart," His voice snapped her out of her trance and she turned to see the shrewd and smiling face of Fisher Morrow's head legal counsel Peter Browning, staring at her. "Peter here was asking you how the software transition is moving along."

"I'm sorry," She instantly apologized, "Excuse me, I was off daydreaming. It has been going very well; Maurice's legacy is in very good hands with Jensen Holdings."

"Of that I have no doubt." He grinned, "Robert is somewhere around, I'll make sure that you see him by the end of the night."

Richard scoffed and sipped his drink, "I hope she'll be able to at least charm him enough to forget about what it is he's doing here."

"Looking as she does, I have no doubt about that."

Suzanne smiled again and she absently let her eyes move to the door, suddenly she saw him.

Her entire body came to life on a molecular level, vibrating and humming with arousal as her primitive female mind instinctively knew the presence of the dominant male who owned her. And goddamn, it wasn't difficult for her rational mind to want him was well. He looked insanely delicious in a tailored tuxedo and black bow tie that brought to mind the recent incarnation of James Bond and the quote that, "there are dinner jackets, and then there are _dinner jackets." _

For a moment she just stopped and really watched him, appreciating the art form that was a master thief and chameleon. Everything about him changed, the way he carried himself, the way he looked at others in the room and commanded attention with little more than a nod and an incline of his head. It was such a far cry from the lascivious man in a rumpled polyester shirt with a carefree Cheshire cat smile…and even further from a scared, orphaned eight-year-old boy from Sheffield walking into the viper's nest of the Harrow School with hand-me-down clothes.

His grey eyes locked on hers from across the room and Suzanne felt her very womb throb at the heat in his gaze. Suddenly there was nothing around her, no voice of her husband droning on with another meaningless person, no party filled with hundreds of faces she'd never seen, there was only him and her…and what they had made.

There was a sudden snap back to reality when she realized that he was walking towards her. Full lipped, clean shaven, dressed to kill, and it seemed like she could smell his delicious musk as he drew near; her heart pounded and her breathing hitched- he was walking right up to her and Richard.

"Good evening, Suzanne," He said with a dapper smile as he leaned in to kiss her cheek with a feather-light brush of his mouth. "You look exquisite tonight."

To anyone it would have looked like nothing more than a chaste greeting between acquaintances, but she could feel the blush rising up into her cheeks and she tried to pretend as if everything was normal as she spoke, "Oh, thank you, Tom."

Richard turned and her heart stopped as Eames stared back stepping toe to toe with him. It was a classic stand-off between two alpha males and her husband finally caved as he stared down his nose at him, "And you are?"

"Thomas Heathcliff, naturally," He replied with a confident drawl as he held out his hand to shake. "And you are the elusive Richard Jensen, I presume."

Suzanne watched intently as Richard's icy blue eyes stared at his outstretched hand like it was something disgusting on the bottom of his shoe. Eames movement was barely perceptible, a subtle shift in the air around him, but she caught it immediately, a slight flare in his nostrils and a darkening of his gaze, suddenly she was back in the tack room of her parent's barn after she insulted him about his upbringing. He kept his hand out and seemed to puff out his chest slightly, a challenge if there ever was one. The tension and testosterone in the air was palatable and she finally had to end it.

"This is the new intern that I hired," She explained unnecessarily.

"I am aware of who he is," Richard answered coldly. "What I am confused about is what he's doing here tonight and why he felt the need to touch my wife and talk to me as if I care to speak to him."

Eames laughed quietly shaking his head, and Suzanne swallowed hard, panicked and scared to death of what was going to happen. Thankfully a distraction walked over in the form of a man that she would never in a million years expected to see in a room with Peter Browning and her husband. It was Tasashi Saito.

"I'm not interrupting anything am I?" His thickly accented voice floated into the air, and she was surprised to notice a small bit of amusement in the tone.

A strange look flitted across Eames' face and he suddenly smiled with a curl of his lip, "Not at all, I was just leaving. It is important for one to know that there are certain places that tourists just do not belong, wouldn't you agree?" Without another word, he turned on his heel and left.

It took everything that Suzanne had not to follow him with her eyes, the smell of his cologne lingered in the air and it left her charged with the intensity of the moment. She wanted him, God, how she wanted him right here and now. In front of everyone she wanted him to throw her on a table and take her-or better yet, she wanted kneel at his feet and take him in her mouth and taste all that power. Her hand was trembling as she sipped her drink and tried to calm herself back down.

"I am very glad to see you tonight, Mr. Saito," Richard said pleasantly, as if Eames and that entire situation hadn't even existed to him. "I believe you know my wife, Suzanne."

She saw the recognition in his eyes, and she smiled sweetly. "That was a long time ago, sweetheart. I am sure Mr. Saito doesn't remember everyone he deals with on business negotiations."

The Japanese man shook his head, "You are right, but I do make a point of remembering those who are extremely gifted in their field. It was a shame that you did not stay with the Russian company, we merged not long after."

Suzanne stared at him and couldn't put two and two together. Saito was Fischer Morrow's biggest competitor, and his company was losing the ability to keep up. What could he _possibly_ gain from being here? And why was Richard happy to see him? It made absolutely no sense whatsoever.

"Ah, but then I would have been at a loss, Mr. Saito," Richard smiled as he reached out and gently brushed her hair off her shoulder and stroked her neck with his fingers tilting her chin to look at him. "And that I could not tolerate."

The two men seemed to have a silent conversation, and she suddenly got the feeling that it was time for the doting trophy wife to flitter off and disappear into the background while the men talked business. She aimlessly stared around trying to find Eames or Nita, and when neither one was an option she decided on the usual bathroom exit.

"Well, I have to excuse myself to the ladies room," She said quietly. "Mr. Saito, it is a pleasure to see you again. I hope you enjoy the evening."

"Thank you, Ms. Jensen, and the pleasure is mine to see you again."

Suzanne nodded and excused herself, allowing the chaste kiss that Richard planted on her cheek as he dismissed her. She walked away and tried to listen as the two of them dropped their voices and walked away from the prying eyes of the crowd that moved around them.

:o:o:o:o

"Can I get you anything, Sir?" The middle aged man behind the bar asked Eames with a friendly smile.

He tapped his fingers repetitively on the oak bar top and sighed, "Single malt scotch, neat, Macallan Gold if you have it."

"Coming right up, sir."

Eames smiled wanly and reached into his pocket to pull out the black lizard skin Salvatore Ferragamo wallet that he lifted off Dickie-boy a moment ago, the damn thing had to be worth $1,500. His blood was still fucking boiling at the way he'd treated him like he was nothing more than a piece of trash he would just as soon spit on as look at it. He sorted through his credit cards, noting his California driver's license, and the five hundred in cash, but there wasn't one picture of his wife. It almost made him laugh out loud; he'd carried one of her for two years. In fact he'd still be carrying it if he hadn't given it back to her at Christmas.

The bartender returned with his drink a moment later and Eames reached into the wallet to hand him a hundred dollar bill, "For you."

"I can't sir." He held up his hands in apology.

"I insist it's for me and the next person who orders a drink."

"That would be me," A voice drawled from beside him. Eames turned his head and for a moment was actually frozen in shock when he stared at the very familiar cerulean blue gaze of Robert Fischer. "Scotch on the rocks, please."

It took him a beat, but he recovered like the consummate professional he was, turning to the handsome business man and smiling. "I can abide by purchasing you a drink, but not when you water down scotch with ice, darling. Bartender, a few drops of water in a glass of Macallan's for my new companion here."

Fischer laughed and stared at the shiny surface of the bar, almost lost in thought as he laughed darkly. "Apparently I don't have enough sense to even order a drink properly either."

His self-loathing tone instantly perked up Eames' attention and as the amber liquid was set down in front of him, he turned to Fischer with an attentive ear. "Not many do, don't feel too terribly awful about that. But I can see by the look on your face that that is the least of your issues today. Penny for your thoughts, Mister…"

"Fischer," He grumbled as he took a hearty swallow of the drink. "Robert Fischer."

"Ah," Eames replied with a knowing nod, "As in Fischer Morrow, I assume, that's quite a company you have there."

The thin man snorted with disgust, "You mean my _father's_ company. Apparently even when he's dead the man holds me in such little regard that the Board of Directors is stealing my inheritance right out from underneath me."

Well, well, this was interesting. Eames instantly turned on his charm and million dollar smile. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"What's even better is that Peter Browning, my own godfather for Chrissakes, is doing it. And to one up that, he's in league with Richard Jensen to install him as CEO, and yet I'm still here at his party looking like an absolute fool. I should find a way to bleed out the net worth of the company and steal it all."

He could barely hide a smile, of all the times to sit at a bar and strike up a conversation with a stranger, he gets a former Mark who holds the answers to everything that he was currently looking for. Arthur wouldn't believe him if he called and told him. But with a poker face that rivaled the best in the world, Eames looked at the distraught business man and gave him some honest feedback.

"If you don't mind a little advice," Eames said with a sigh and a sip of his scotch, "Which you can take with a grain of salt if you so chose; you don't want to steal their money like that. It's all wrong."

"Really?" Robert scoffed, "And what exactly would you do if the most important thing in the world was being taken from you?"

"Mmm, well, I didn't say that _you_ were wrong, Robert. I simply implied a concept that I happen to believe rather strongly in as a man of principle in an often ambiguous world. There are two types of thieves, those who steal to enrich their lives, and those who steal to define their lives. Don't be the latter of the two; it makes it difficult to look in the mirror."

Fischer suddenly seemed very interested in him and his entire body language completely changed. His crystal clear blue eyes stared at Eames with a sense of wonder and awe, "And again, I'll ask what is it that you would do as a man of principle?"

Eames bit his lower lip with a playful nip as he leaned in, "Well, if it was me, I would enjoy wreaking havoc on them while making a decent bank to go with it, darling. I am guessing as Maurice Fischer's heir you most likely have a majority share in the company."

"I do."

"Sell it. All of it, every last dime for the best price you can get." He said nonchalantly.

"What! And give away my inheritance!" Robert snapped.

Eames sighed and raised his eyebrow, staring at the man with the same look that he often saved for Arthur when he was too slow to pick up what he was explaining. "You have to let me finish, Robert. Are you done with your little temper tantrum?"

A frown was his only reply and he continued with a smile. "Now, as I was saying. After selling your shares and you are now flush with capital, you buy up every little company and interest that has anything to do with the way that Fischer Morrow does business, each and every existing contract you have. I am referring to mining companies, diving and construction companies, architectural firms, the companies that run your drilling and off-shore energy contracts, the company that manufactures the wire that you use in your damn phone lines. Are you following?"

"Yes."

"And then you make it impossible for Fischer Morrow to do business without purchasing the companies that you have just bought. Which you turn around and sell to them at a ridiculous price," Eames finished as he took a swig of his drink. "Naturally they'll sue you, and probably win every time, but that takes money and time; two things from my knowledge that Peter Browning detests wasting. So he'll settle, and you'll triple your money, and then you can do whatever that little heart desires with the rest of your life."

Robert stared at him for a long time and for a second Eames was genuinely concerned that the man was going to reach across and give him a kiss or something foolish. But instead his face broke into a smile, "That is certainly a way to enrich my life. Thank you." He paused for another second and this time his eyes were shrewd and puzzled, like he was trying to work through something. "Have we met before, you seem oddly familiar?"

Eames literally fought the urge to laugh out loud at the absolute absurd nature of the situation. The little devil that sat on his shoulder kept whispering to him that he should spill to Fischer about what Saito hired him and Cobb for-that it would be a wee bit of well deserved revenge, but he decided against it.

This was much more fun. With Fischer wreaking havoc on Dickie-boy for the next fifteen years it was more than enough to make him happy. And something told him that this would piss off Saito as well, because Fischer would end up buying some of the same companies that Proclus used, and he'd have to shell out money to deal with that as well.

By then him and Annie would be living quietly somewhere, completely ignorant to the goings on of the corporate rat race.

But there was a question that he still had to answer.

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Fischer."

"Are you certain?"

Eames took the pressing line of questioning as time to leave, so he finished his drink with a healthy swallow and stood up, patting the slender man on the back. "Quite, though I've been told that I have one of those faces, I look different from time to time. If you'll excuse me, Robert, it was lovely to speak to you, but there is an exquisite woman around here somewhere that I need to give a little personal attention to if you catch my drift."

"Oh, well, take care, Mister…I didn't catch your name," He replied extending his hand and trying to coax something out of him.

"That's because I didn't give it to you Mr. Fischer, have a lovely evening though. And good luck with everything." Eames shook his hand gently and walked away with a shit-eating grin plastered all over his face.

This was bloody perfect.

Just as the thought floated through his head, he caught sight of Suzanne walking out of the ladies room and turning down the hall away from everyone.

_Now_ it was perfect.

He quickly jogged up to shadow her steps as his sharp eyes discerned a small utility closet a few feet away from where they were headed. In a flash he opened the door and gently grabbed her arm, pulling her in and closing them in. She shrieked in surprise but seemed to relax a second later, as if she knew that there was only one person that would be doing this.

Eames fiddled around in the dark for a moment before he found a light switch and with a flip of the wrist he was left staring at his beautiful woman trussed up like an alluring goddess in red. Her green eyes were playful as she stared around the empty barely six by six foot space that probably served as a spare coat closet.

"This is a charming little place, Mr. Eames."

He laughed as he stared at her brightly painted, cherry red lips, the lipstick was as shiny as glass and he knew that it would make a rather decent and visible mess if he decided to kiss her. His rather hormone addled mind also contemplated the torrid and wonderful notion of those red lips leaving a lipstick stain all over his cock. Mmm, now that would make him want to walk up to her husband all over again and say hello just for the irony of it all.

"It's a shame you are all painted up like the Mona Lisa, love," He whispered as he brought his lips up to brush hers, "I'm dying to kiss those lips right now."

As if her mind was on the same level as his, her perfectly sculpted eyebrow rose up and her voice dropped to a husky whisper as she reached out to grab him by the waist of his pants to pull him flush against her body. "Are you sure you can't kiss me on the lips, baby? I'm pretty sure you can be creative about that." A rakish grin split his face as she opened her mouth to slowly lick across his pillow soft pout.

"You filthy little gorgeous thing," He mumbled, his hand straying to the slit in her gown. "Is that what you want?"

"See for yourself," She breathed.

His fingers trailed up her leg, to the top of her lace topped thigh-high, and further past her garter straps to the impossibly soft skin just above, and then, finally, to the blessed heat of her sex. Eames groaned lowly as his fingers felt the moist, slick and undeniably bare skin that was waiting for him. She was freshly waxed and smooth as fucking satin. "_Fuck, me_," was all he could manage.

"I want you on your knees, Mr. Eames."

"Darling," He moaned as he instantly dropped to the ground. "God, I love you."

Suzanne closed her eyes and leaned against the wall as he gently lifted her leg on the side with the slit and rested it over his shoulder. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her skin and everything inside her began to churn and clench in anticipation. She had no idea what had come over her. She was standing in a coat closet getting ready to be worshiped by the God of Lust himself while her husband sipped his gin drink and droned on about his pointless business. She bit her lip as his the warm, soft tip of his tongue snaked out to suddenly flick against her clit.

"Ohhh," She gasped as his lips joined his tongue a moment later, moving against her in mimicry of the type of seductive kiss he usually saved for her mouth. He slowly savored her, kissing and licking along her soft, sweet folds as his moans of pleasure vibrated against her.

Eames was drunk on her, savoring her nectar as it shamed the smooth single malt scotch that was still on his tongue. He felt the little jewel at the apex of her sex already beginning to swell and stiffen and he wanted to feel her when she came undone. He pulled away to stare at her flushed and glistening flesh as he brought up two fingers, sliding them inside with ease as he searched out the little bump of spongy soft tissue with precision.

"That's it," Suzanne gasped as he stroked her insides in flawless rhythm and brought his mouth and tongue to meet it, "Oh, _God_. I'm gonna come."

Her legs were shaking and her insides were throbbing with an unbearable pressure and it took every bit of concentration and meditation that she could muster to keep quiet as her climax began to unfurl in a glorious wave. A tingle raced down her spine and suddenly the world shifted as she came apart. Her hand flew out to grasp his gelled hair in a fist as he worked her through an orgasm that had her trembling and seeing stars. He kept up the pressure, greedily trying to milk out another one. But she couldn't here, not restricted like she was. Tears clouded her eyes as she shook under his power.

"Baby, I _can't_…" She whispered in a desperate plea. "Not now."

"You taste so delicious, love," Eames coaxed her with a teasing lick using the flat of his tongue. "I just can't stop."

Suzanne rolled her hips against the fingers that were still inside her. "I promise tomorrow you can eat it as long as you want."

He grinned lasciviously as he pulled out of her and lowered her leg from her shoulder, slowly standing. He brought up his hand and made a show of slowly sucking each finger clean, his grey eyes darkening with predatory lust. "You shouldn't make promises you can't keep, darling. I'm a very selfish man, and if you come to my bed again, I won't let you leave. I don't give a bleeding fuck who that wanker is, you are _my_ woman."

Her heart was racing, and suddenly she couldn't think straight. It was as if her hormones were shorting out her common sense. The logical part of her mind that told her that she needed to watch herself, that she was so goddamn close to freedom. All it was going to take was just a few more days. Cobb and his children needed her.

But as if answering that sentiment, a weak aftershock of sensation ghosted through her womb, reminding her that there was another life that needed consideration. She opened her mouth to speak when a stern voice from the nearby hall floated through the silence and her name was carried on it. It was her husband, and he was looking for her.

"Edward, I have to go," She said as her voice shook. He said nothing, and he didn't move. "Please."

He stepped away and refused to speak, just staring at her with a strange mixture of possession, desire and hurt in his gaze. She couldn't look him in the eye as she slid past him and into the hallway. The guilt and self-loathing she felt consumed her as she left him behind. With each step on her shaking legs she betrayed herself more and more. She ducked into the bathroom to try to compose her face quickly before she tried to hold her head up as she entered the crowd of faceless people.

Eames was left standing in the small room as his body surged to redline. He was physically in revolt. Emotions assaulted him with brutal and savage force. Hurt, anger, pain, betrayal, need, love and lust crushed his chest…he couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. In a split second he straightened himself as a vicious flash of hate roared through his blood, encouraged by the taste of Suzanne that still hung in his mouth and his rock hard cock.

Oh, he had been patient long enough. He'd been a good little boy the first time Richard Jensen sent him off, but now it was his turn to show his power…he was going to spend the rest of the night touching his beautiful wife right under his nose.

After all, he needed to stick around; Dickie-boy needed his wallet back.

* * *

**Oh boy…more to come…**


	26. Chapter 26

**AN: Ugh the week I had…I tell ya. I even had a little writer's block on this one…so many little bits and pieces here that are starting to become more and more important…but I digress. Here we have the conclusion of Suzanne's party she'd pay not to be at.**

**As always, I am lazy so this is going out a bit rough…if it needs to be fixed I will do it I promise.**

**Please, please read and review. I'd also like to say a HUGE thank you to everyone for making this my most reviewed story to date…you have no idea what that does to a wannabe writer. Much love!**

* * *

_Los Angeles, California_

_2010_

* * *

"There you are." Richard's stern voice called out and Suzanne stopped in her tracks. She took a deep breath and smiled her rehearsed and blank look as she turned to meet him, praying that the flush of her recent tryst with Eames wasn't still painted all over her pale face. "Where were you?"

"Oh," She breathed as she waived her hand nonchalantly, "I was just in the ladies room, and then I ran into someone who needed a little help finding something, so I had a nice conversation. But here I am."

He stared at her for a moment and she could feel her heart begin to flutter wildly in her chest, his eyes were cold, and for a split second she was scared that he knew her little secret. But he merely reached out to touch her cheek, lifting her chin up and stroking the skin of her neck. "Yes, here you are. David Woodruff was just asking for you, apparently his office computer has been giving him issues this week. I'd like you to take a look at it tomorrow."

Suzanne took a deep breath and smiled, it would be the perfect opportunity. She would have the time to get everything that Cobb needed. There would be no reason to go through with any sort of extraction job; it would be just pure, old fashioned computer theft. "Sure, I'll definitely be available to him in the afternoon."

"Lovely, pet, now, would you please get me another drink? Robert Fischer is around here somewhere and I'd just like to deal with him once and get on with it for the evening."

"Of course, honey," She smiled as she walked off towards the bar.

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne tapped her fingers gently on the bar as she waited for the bartender to make Richard another gin gimlet. Her stomach rumbled loudly and she sighed openly at the thought that she would give her left arm for a hunk of perfectly cooked, medium rare steak and mashed potatoes…or a juicy bacon cheeseburger…basically anything as long as red meat was involved. But instead she ordered a glass of sparkling non-alcoholic cider in a champagne flute to make it look like she was drinking something. Not that her husband would have even paid attention enough to notice that she wasn't. Her stomach growled again, louder this time and she turned her head to stare at the cheese plate across the room as a pair of pillow soft lips suddenly pressed against the shell of her ear.

"I can hear your tummy from across the room, darling." Eames' warm voice was filled with amusement and a hint of scolding as he talked to her. She couldn't suppress a tremor of lust that tingled across her skin as his breath fanned against her neck. "How about I go get us something to nibble on, hmm?"

She wanted to tell him that there wasn't time to stand around and snack with him, Richard would be expecting his cocktail any moment and it was completely inappropriate to do this in public. But as his hand came up to gently squeeze her waist she couldn't do anything but acquiesce to his suggestion. She waited patiently for the bartender to hand her the two drinks before she caught sight of a high, round table that was at the corner of the bar area. It was mostly hidden from prying eyes, and it would prove to be a nice place to have a little bite to eat. Suzanne walked over and waited patiently as Eames returned with a plate full of fruit, cheese and a few hors d'oeuvres that must have caught his eye.

"Now here you are, love, eat."

She rolled her eyes as she sipped her sparkling cider, "I am so trussed up in this dress that I really don't think I have any room for a mouthful of food."

A frown instantly fell across his full lips and he stared at her tiny figure, "Completely unacceptable."

He reached over to grab a small bit of spicy tuna tartare on a crostini and offered it to her painted mouth with an insistent movement. Suzanne paused as she stared down at the raw fish, knowing that it was no doubt delicious…but she wasn't supposed to eat it in her delicate condition. She played it off simply, taking the small treat in her hand and instead of eating it she fed it back to him; her eyes closing as he seductively took the morsel from her with a gentle bite. Her face was bright red and she quickly popped an airy cheese pastry into her mouth to avoid looking at the smoldering hunger in his gaze.

Eames leaned in to grab a plump purple grape, popping it in his mouth before whispering in her ear, "Everything I eat tastes so sweet." She paused for a minute, as if she was confused as to what he was saying until he chuckled lowly and explained further. "I still have a mouthful of your delicious pussy, darling." He licked his lips for emphasis, "Like pure honey."

Her blush was instant, and she was quite sure that it made her face match her dress. "I see," was all that she could manage to say to him.

He merely laughed and reached over to grab the martini-style glass with Richard's drink in it and take a healthy swig before making a nasty face. "What is that god-awful thing?"

"Not a fan of gin?" Suzanne laughed. "I thought that the gimlet was a very British drink, _darling_."

"That may be, love, but I have to say I have never been a fan of the stuff."

"So no gimlets and no peas in our home," She smiled as his hand reached over to stroke hers, his fingers playing across the smooth skin on the back of her hand. It all happened like something out of an odd dream, one minute she was staring at his unbearably handsome face, and the next minute she was leaning over, like she had so many times in the past week, to place a gentle kiss on his succulent mouth.

It took her a moment before she realized what she was doing.

It was Eames that had the sense to pull away, looking at her with a depth of sadness in his grey eyes. "I need to get out of here."

His voice was thick with emotion and Suzanne couldn't believe how foolish she had just been. She'd put her mouth on him in public, in a way that couldn't be construed to be anything but what it was.

He took a deep breath and reached into his pocket to pull out Richard's purloined wallet. "Give this back to Dickie-boy."

"Edward, please don't go," She whispered, feeling a strange mixture of selfishness and desperation, she didn't know how she was going to make the rest of the night with these people. She couldn't fake another pleasant look or smile.

"I have to Annie, I'm sorry my love," He mumbled as he stood up and kissed her on the cheek before he breezed out of the room without looking back.

Suzanne felt the tears come to her eyes, as she grabbed her husband's wallet and numbly walked to the bar to grab him another drink before she walked out to meet him in the sea of empty faces.

:o:o:o:o

"_**Ten…nine…eight…"**_

The crowd around her began to loudly count down and she tried to keep herself under control as her husband as the cream of financial society celebrated the start of another year of owning the world.

"…_**seven…six…five…"**_

His hand was around her waist with a tight grip, and she tried to smile as his steely gaze fixed on her face.

"…_**four…three…two…ONE…Happy New Year!"**_

Richard leaned down to her face, taking her lips in a stern and possessive kiss. The thin, firm pressure of his mouth and his tongue was so very different from Edward's. Eames' kisses were always a coaxing and gentle, even when he was taking control and filled with lusty passion they were something that felt like a mutual joining. He never forced her to feel, it was always something sacred and savored between the two of them.

"Happy New Year, my beautiful wife," He murmured against her mouth. She could smell the gin on his breath and she knew that the only time that Richard ever let his libido get the better of his continual stoic control was when he had a few drinks. "I thoroughly intend on spending the rest of the night with you in our bed making an heir to our little empire, what do you think?"

A lump of distaste and revulsion settled in her throat and she tried to smile at him, instead she settled for an exaggerated grimace. "I think my stomach is still in revolt, I'm afraid you won't find me very attractive tonight."

Richard stared at her and shook his head, "Such a shame. Well, we should be getting out of here in short order. The party is over and I am tired of dealing with these people."

Suzanne took a deep breath and remembered the fact that she had his wallet tucked under her arm. With a move that she hoped would make Eames proud she dropped it at his feet and stared down. "Oh, honey, is this yours?"

He grabbed at the bit of leather, "How did that ever fall out of my pocket?"

"I must have knocked it out," She mused as he slid it back in his pants and finished his drink in a long swallow.

:o:o:o:o

She was waiting at the door like a good little wife when she felt her phone vibrate in her clutch. She fished it out and smiled when she saw that it was a text from Nita.

_So, so, sorry I missed the gala. I got home and got all dressed and a friend stopped by with a bottle of champagne and roses to wish me a good night…umm I haven't left the house : )!_

Suzanne laughed out loud at the thought that Yusuf had finally managed to seduce her friend. She had an odd feeling that birds of a feather flocked together, and if he was close with Eames, it only went to common sense that underneath that calm exterior was that of a passionate lover.

_I should be mad…but I am waaay more jealous than angry. Have a wonderful start to 2011!_

_You too! Enjoy the night!_

She sighed as she stared at her phone and scrolled through the numbers, finding Eames' and she fired off a quick message.

_I just wanted to wish you a Happy New Year and to let you know that I love you and I can't stop thinking about you. I wish it was our bed in Paris I was sleeping in tonight._

It was the truth.

Her head hurt and her stomach was killing her as they drove home. Thankfully it wasn't hard to turn Richard off when she immediately ran into the downstairs bathroom and threw up what little she had in her stomach the moment they walked into the house. She heard him mutter something under his breath as he walked upstairs and shut the bedroom door. It was a moment of relief as she reached back to unzip her dress and unfasten the bustier that was cinching her in so tight that her torso and stomach were covered with angry red marks from the corset's boning.

She breathed deep as her nausea subsided for a second and she stood on shaky legs to walk up to her bedroom to undress and slide on her nightgown and her robe. Richard was already sound asleep thanks to an Ambien and the alcohol he'd consumed at the party. She stared at him in the bed when she grabbed the silk nightie and tossed her dress on the floor. It felt worlds better as she wrapped her long, soft robe around her. She knew that she had to eat something, it was important to get the nutrition she needed this early in the pregnancy.

She walked back down to the kitchen and searched around in the cupboards and had to settle for a bit of tasteless flax seed cereal and soy milk. It was a pathetic way to start off a new year, but she hoped that by this time next year she would be in much better spirits. A strange tingle of happiness danced in her stomach as she realized that by next December she would be sitting with Eames and their little one. She looked down at her belly and tried to imagine what their baby would look like; a little girl that had her hair and his stormy grey eyes, or a little boy with his father's full lips and his devil-may-care attitude.

It was something that warmed her heart to no end.

She cleaned up her mess and poured herself another glass of soy milk as her phone vibrated on the counter. It was Eames.

_I need you, love._

Suzanne bit her lip and typed back.

_I have to run out tomorrow, I can be at your place early._

_No. I need you NOW. I am parked in your driveway._

Her eyes went wide and she ran over to the front picture window and stared out. She couldn't see anything at first, and then she noticed the very familiar line of led lights that would have been on the front headlights of his brand new Audi. Apparently he was done playing the part of the humble intern.

_I can't just come out there…_

_Love, either you come out or I swear to God I will be at your front door in two minutes and I will bend you over your kitchen table and take you while that fucking wanker sleeps upstairs._

Her hands were shaking with need and fear and she cast a wary look up at her bedroom. The rational part of her mind screamed at her that Eames was just being a possessive ass of a male that was pissed off because of the way Richard had treated him tonight. But her heart kept remembering the look on his face tonight after she kissed him. It was the look of a broken man who was devastated that his woman was being taken away from him. And in the end, as it always seemed when he was concerned, Suzanne let her heart rule her.

With little more than a backward glance, she slipped out of the front door and jogged barefoot, in nothing more than her nightgown and robe, down to where Eames was parked.

:o:o:o:o

The cool breeze was coming off the ocean and for once she was thankful for being in Southern California; it was January 1st and the temperature was hovering right around 50 degrees. She shivered as she air licked at her legs and she was grateful when she finally pulled open the door to his car and slid into the soft leather seat.

She turned to look at him, and noticed that he was still wearing his tux from the party, though the collar was undone and his bowtie was hanging from his neck. There was sadness still in his face that she wasn't used to seeing and as she turned to look at him, she was surprised to see the shine of tears in his eyes.

"What's wrong, baby?" Suzanne asked as she reached out to cradle his face.

"I can't do this, darling," He whispered desperately as he pulled her across the front of the car to straddle his lap in the driver's seat. From this angle, they were so close and she leaned down to kiss his lips like she had been dying to do all night. He was almost panting for breath as she pulled away. He touched her cheek gently, "Let's run, love. Just you and I. We can leave tonight and be anywhere by the morning. We can be free."

"Edward," She sighed quietly. "We can't, what about Cobb and his children? They need us."

His eyes were almost desperate as he stared at her, as if there was something awful that was weighing on his soul. "I'll take you to Paris, back to our place; we never have to leave again."

"Baby, and what, we'll run for the rest of our lives? I want a divorce, and I want to marry you, I don't want to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life." She smoothed his hair off his forehead as she kissed him slowly. "I want us to have the life that we deserve…have babies."

Eames couldn't control the emotions that were swirling around in his head. Here she was telling him that she wanted to be with him for the rest of her life, that she knew what he was and what he had done and she still loved him despite it all. It was why he had to run with her before she found out the truth about what had happened behind her back. That he had stolen information from her. He couldn't lose her…and he couldn't stand another moment of letting that man touch her. Just the thought alone was making him insane.

It was as if she knew what he was thinking. Her hand came down to pull at the tie of her robe, and in a blink it was open revealing the delicate, light pink night dress beneath. His rough palms instantly came up to touch her small curves through the silk, hissing in pleasure as he felt her nipples pebble out and harden at the slight contact. She was so damn beautiful. He reached up to pull the robe off her shoulders and slid the thin straps down to expose the creamy skin of her flawless breasts. He leaned in to take one of the rosy pink buds in an eager suckle, groaning as she moaned out loudly.

Suzanne felt her entire body throb as Eames feasted on her breasts. The skin was so sensitive, she knew hormones had to be playing a part in it, but _holy shit_ her nipples had never, ever been this hard. Finally it was all too much for her to handle. She reached between their bodies to unfasten his belt and take down his zipper, biting her lip as she reached in to pull out his gorgeous perfectly erect manhood. "Damn it Eames, I love your aversion to underwear."

He chuckled warmly as he lifted up her night dress to touch the skin of her stomach, frowning when he saw the deep red marks that had been caused by her restrictive dress. "He did this to you."

"It's fine, just should have been mindful of my diet," She mumbled as she leaned in to kiss him. "I've been eating like a pig for a week."

"Annie," He growled angrily. "You've been eating like a woman who has been _starved_ for a week. If that blue blood piece of shit dares to tell you that you are less than a goddess in flesh I'll tear him apart."

His passionate declaration was all she needed to fire her up, "That's why I am here with you right now, wanting _you_." It was a quick shift of their bodies and suddenly she was speared with the ridged staff of his cock. She moaned out unabashedly loud, knowing that they were secluded enough that she could enjoy this without being interrupted, at least for a moment. "Take me, Edward. I'm yours, my love."

He held her waist in a firm but gentle grip as he thrust his hips upwards to take her at a lightning fast, blistering pace that satisfied everything inside of him that was screaming. Suzanne leaned her face to his lips, panting and breathing into his mouth as they both drew closer and closer to completion. "Tell me what you feel." She whispered.

"I love you, Annie." Eames gasped, "Goddamn it, I love you, always."

They both broke only minutes later, Suzanne keening out as her insides clenched and released in a wave, and Eames coming deep in her body in a long wave. Her heart was racing as she rested her forehead on his and tried to calm herself down and back to normal again. She shivered in completion and from the chill of the air that was starting to seep into the humid air of the car. He kissed her tenderly as he replaced her robe and rubbed her shoulders to keep her warm, refusing to let her slide off his spent but still rock hard need.

Her eyes glanced sideways as she turned her head to stare at the clock. She'd already been gone for fifteen minutes; she didn't dare to make it any longer. "I have to go, honey."

"Darling, please don't," Eames said quietly. "Stay with me."

She cupped his face, "I have an appointment to go to Woodruff's office tomorrow to do some repair work on his computer. I am going to download the whole fucking thing to give to Cobb. He'll be free and clear without ever having to get into the man's head."

Eames blinked at her, amazed by her plan. "Are you sure you'll be able to do that?"

Suzanne chewed her lip, "I should be able to with very little trouble. I plan on just installing a virus program that will give Arthur access to everything. So, we'll be done tomorrow." She was smiling as she kissed him again, "I'll contact my lawyer in the afternoon and I'll be in your bed tomorrow night. I promise you."

It seemed to good to be true, and they both knew that while her plan sounded good out loud, there was no way that Richard Jensen was just going to roll over and let his wife walk away. But at the moment, it gave them both such a feeling of much needed calm, that neither wanted to question it.

She moved off of his lap and he fastened his pants as she tied her robe and ran her fingers through her mussed up hair. "I'll call you tomorrow afternoon as soon as everything is settled."

Eames nodded and stared down at his lap. "Please be careful, love."

"I will."

She leaned over to kiss him one last time, trying to soothe his anxiety. But as she went to pull away his hand came up to tangle in her hair and he kissed her with almost desperate passion, his tongue diving deep into her mouth to savor everything he could. It felt like that moment at his door two years ago when she had gone back to her flat in Paris and he had promised to meet her and never showed. There was the same ominous cloud twisting in his gut and he prayed that somehow he was wrong.

Suzanne whispered one last, "I love you," before she opened the car and stepped out, jogging back up to her front door and remaining as silent as a church mouse as she crept up the stairs and into the bedroom.

A quick look with her sharp eyes in the darkness found Richard snoring lightly and completely dead to the world. She walked into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth before she slipped off her robe and crawled underneath the blankets, staying as far away from her husband as she could. She took a deep breath and stared at the antique clock on her bedside, making herself a promise before she closed her eyes. This would be the last night that she slept in this bed, the last night that she wished to be herself again.

Tomorrow everything would change.


	27. Chapter 27

**AN: Writing like crazy! I just want to go ahead and put this out there that I have no idea whatsoever about computer programming…but I have done a decent amount of reading and the terms and concepts I have laid out are at least conceptually possible…so yeah go ahead and give me that creative license. ; )**

**Thank you, thank you for all the love…almost 200 reviews man…wow. Please keep it up, to all the guest reviewers that pop on…THANKS! (Since I can't send it directly to you!)**

**Without further ado…**

* * *

_Los Angeles, California_

_2011_

* * *

Suzanne woke early the next morning, despite the fact that she had barely slept. She looked over to the other side of the bed and noticed that Richard was gone and by the cool temperature of the sheets he had been awake for some time. She slowly stood up and stretched, ignoring the fact that once again her stomach was screaming for food, and walked to the bathroom to jump in the shower.

The billowing steam and hot water was a blissful feeling to her tired bones and she sighed contentedly as she washed her hair and cleaned her body, remembering that the evidence of her and Eames' rendezvous was still between her legs. She hopped out of the shower and dried her long hair, curling the ends and putting on just enough make up to be presentable to the security at Cobol Engineering's headquarters.

She threw on a pair of tailored black pants and a white cashmere wrap sweater that was heavy enough to keep her warm, but still light enough for the mild LA climate and her calf length black boots. She stared down at her hand noticing the large diamond and the fact that it would feel like such a weight to take it off for good.

Suzanne threw her pocket book over her shoulder and walked downstairs into the kitchen to notice that Richard was nowhere to be found. It wasn't strange by any stretch of the imagination, he often went on early morning 10 mile runs and she figured that this particular morning was no different.

She picked up a piece of scrap paper and scrawled out a note that she would be back in a couple of hours. She paused for a second before adding that she had something that she needed to talk to him about and to please be home this afternoon to talk about it.

It sounded rather simple. She didn't want to add that, "I am leaving this afternoon and we are getting a divorce," even Richard deserved to hear something like that face to face.

Suzanne took a deep breath as she walked out of her front door. Just a couple hours left.

:o:o:o:o

Thankfully January 1st was the perfect time to do any sort of work in the financial district. Cobol's US Headquarters were only a few blocks from Jensen Holdings, and as she walked into the revolving door of the modern glass skyscraper, she was surprised to see only one heavyset fifty-something security guard on detail.

She smiled pleasantly at him and pulled out her credentials and photo ID. "Suzanne Jensen from Jensen Holdings, I am here to see David Woodruff, he's expecting me."

The heavy set guard stared at her paperwork and then back at her with a pleasant but authoritative look. "Mr. Woodruff said you'd be stopping by. He's not in, but you can go up to his floor. I am going to need you to sign in, and the key card that I am giving you will allow you into his office for an hour."

Suzanne nodded and signed in, knowing that it would be difficult to get the virus program into the system without it coming back to her. But it was something that had to be done. She was lost in thought as she grabbed the key card and walked over to the executive elevator. She swiped the card and pressed the button for the penthouse floor. A thought came into her mind as she stared at the shiny metallic walls of the elevator. She could install a keystroke disguise and it would hide what she was doing, and the Trojan horse that she was going to download was designed to have a 24 hour lifespan. It would give Arthur the time that he needed to access Woodruff's computer and then it would die off.

There would be no way to trace it, and with the keystrokes turned off it would take a software analyst a lifetime to filter back through the billions and billions of lines of source code to figure out what had happened. They would never be able to tie her to any of it.

:o:o:o:o

The entire software upgrade and virus installation took her about fifteen minutes. Apparently the widowed head of one of the largest companies in the world had a soft spot for internet pornography. His entire desktop was littered with Malware and Trojan horses from him playing a litany of really interesting things on his work computer. Such lovely people her husband counted among his friends. For a moment she grimaced as she stared at the keyboard thinking of all the disgusting things that no doubt went on in the office after hours…thank God for the Purel in her bag.

Well, not that her desk was much better these days.

Suzanne tried to keep from giggling like a little girl as she composed a very long, and hopefully professional, email to Woodruff that detailed the fact that she had gone through the main parts of his hard drive and scrubbed them clean, but she would most likely have to do a follow up in another month to make sure that everything was clear.

Of course he would have better luck contacting Jesus Christ as opposed to her in a month. But there it was the perfect excuse for his information compromise. Just another example of a powerful man brought down by a pair silicone breasts. She laughed to herself at the irony as she dialed Arthur's number.

It rang a few times before his calm voice answered. "Arthur Collins speaking, how may I help you?"

"Good morning, Arthur, it's Suzanne." She said with a smile in her voice. "Have you spoken to Eames at all today?"

"Hey, Suzanne, good to hear from you," He said earnestly. "And no I haven't heard from Eames, I think he might have called last night, but I usually wait to call him back. I like to let him stew for a while."

Suzanne rolled her eyes at the way the normally stoic point man was reduced to a teenage boy when dealing with his colleague. "Well, he was probably calling you to let you know that I have a little New Year's present for you and Dom."

"Oh?" His voice was piqued with interest. "What would that be?"

"I am sitting behind David Woodruff's computer as we speak and I have just downloaded a nifty little bit of Malware that will give you remote access to everything for the next, oh, say 23 hours and 45 minutes."

Arthur was silent for a moment before he finally spoke with a note of absolute awe in his voice. "Holy shit, how did you manage to pull that off?"

She laughed and leaned back in the oversized leather chair, spinning it a little as she answered. "He needed me to debug his system today, and I thought that it would be more effective to simply take what we needed the old fashioned way as opposed to going at it roundabout and getting into his head. Wasn't it Da Vinci that said, 'simplicity is the ultimate form of sophistication'?"

He laughed warmly on the other end of the line, "You are beginning to sound like him you know. If you start calling me 'darling' and grow a penchant for tacky polyester shirts, I am officially going to worry about you."

"I _suppose_ I'll take that as a compliment," Suzanne laughed. "But either way, I am sending you the link in an encrypted text. Remember, you have one day to do this."

"I'll take care of it, Suzanne." His voice became thoughtful as he continued. "I know this means a lot to Dom. I can't thank you enough for all that you have done. You didn't have to."

"I did," She answered truthfully. "For Mal's family, I really did."

"I will talk to you soon I am sure," Arthur said with a sigh. "But if not, it was good seeing you again. I hope it won't be another couple of years until we do it again."

"Likewise, Mr. Collins," Suzanne answered. "Tell Ariadne hello for me."

"I will."

Just like that it was over. Like so many monumental moments in life, Suzanne merely sent a message and stood up from Woodruff's desk realizing that she had done the last piece of work that she would ever do on behalf of Jensen Holdings International. As she slung her bag across her shoulder she felt a sense of sadness tug at her heart. She would have to call Nita and even Nigel tonight to wish them luck in their positions. Because she was quite sure that she would never set foot in her office again. She'd call a courier to box up her personal belongings, and that would be that.

Two years of her professional life were down the toilet. Ugh. It should really be depressing if it wasn't for the fact that she would gladly give it all up to be with the one person she cared about.

She walked down and out of the office, handing back her security badge and wishing the guard a nice day as she stepped out onto the sunny sidewalk. It was early enough to grab a decent breakfast, and for a moment she contemplated calling Eames, but for the first time in a long time she wanted to enjoy a bit of time to herself.

She walked down the street to a cute little coffee shop and ordered her one caffeinated beverage that she would be allowed to enjoy, and a piece of huge cheese danish that once again went against everything in her diet. But it was worth it.

It was halfway through her caramel latte that she pulled out her phone to call her lawyer, Jenna. The petite brunette was a young star in her legal firm, one that Richard had fallen out with over something or another, but Suzanne maintained contact anyway. It wasn't like she could call the usual legal team; they would be representing her husband.

The phone rang a few times and she was getting ready to leave a message when the young woman's voice answered. "Good afternoon, this is Jenna Algee."

"Oh, hey, I didn't think you'd answer. This is Suzanne Jensen."

Jenna took a deep breath and laughed. "Yeah, well, that is why I made junior partner at 28. I have no life and work 90 hours a week. Anyways, what can I do for you Suzanne?"

It was Suzanne's turn to fall silent. Her heartbeat was roaring in her ears and she could feel her stomach twisting into knots at the pure feeling of terror and anxiety that raced through her body. It wasn't like she was having second thoughts in the least, but the realization was far different than the theoretical.

"I'm, um, I have decided to get a divorce." A huge exhale of air passed through her mouth and she continued. "I want to make it as simple as possible. I want nothing at all from him."

"Simple, huh?" Jenna questioned. "I can take a look at everything for you, but I mean as far as it being simple, if you walk out that door with nothing at all you should be alright. But if we are talking about division of assets and the such I have to look at the prenup."

"No, I don't want anything at all from him. I have my own money earned before the marriage, and my retirement income from my tenure, but that is it. He can have everything else." Suzanne answered.

"So what brought this about?"

Suzanne absently looked up at the sky as she took a deep breath, "Irreconcilable differences, that is the term, right?"

"Yeah," She answered. "California is no-fault state anyhow. You don't need a reason and you both don't need to be in agreement. Do you want me to start drawing up the paperwork to serve his lawyer?"

"Yes."

"Alright then, I assume that you are vacating the premises you both share? Because that is going to be an issue if you want to stay," She added as her voice trailed off. Suzanne assumed that she was taking notes.

"No, no I am leaving today." Suzanne answered.

Jenna was quiet for a moment and took a deep breath, "Are you going home by yourself? It probably isn't the best idea if you haven't spoken to him. I have seen some nasty stuff, and you and I both know that your husband's best quality isn't his understanding nature."

"I'll be fine." She said confidently. "I have someone that I can call if I need to."

"If you insist," Jenna said, "I'll be in touch with you tomorrow. This is the best number to reach you I assume."

"Yes."

"Well, have a good afternoon, Ms. Jensen. Please call me if you need anything."

"Thanks," Suzanne said as she hung up.

She sipped her drink and smiled to herself. It was all over. Suzanne flipped through her phone and texted Eames with a feeling of giddiness that she hadn't felt in so damn long.

_Hey baby, I'm sitting at breakfast…wondering what you want for dinner…_

It was only a minute before he wrote her back.

_You, darling, all I want is hours and hours of tasting every last inch of you._

Suzanne smiled and blushed. She silently thanked anyone who would listen for whatever divine intervention had brought her to Paris two years ago, and for making her love someone so completely and utterly.

_Sounds amazing…I'll see you soon…_

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne wanted to call her mother to let her know what was happening, but she wasn't really in the mood at the moment. What she _wanted_ to do was go home, pack up her closet and get the hell out of there. She'd have plenty of time to call her tonight from Eames' apartment. She pulled her car into the driveway and rolled her eyes at the sight of a brand new black Bugatti Veyron with dealer plates still on sitting in the garage.

So her soon-to-be-ex-husband felt the need to buy a million dollar car. That was nice. Hopefully it kept him nice and warm in the near future.

Suzanne rolled her eyes and said a quick prayer that everything was going to come out just fine as she walked up to the front door and let herself in. It was quiet and she craned her neck to see if she could find Richard anywhere.

"I'm home," She announced as her bladder twinged painfully, reminding her that she was a pregnant woman who needed to pee every five seconds and it better be something that she was going to get used to.

She set her purse down on the island in the kitchen and walked into the bathroom for just a moment to relieve herself.

:o:o:o:o

Eames lay back in his bed, waiting eagerly for another message that she was on her way. He wanted to call her and ask if she wanted him to be there when she left, but he figured she would have asked him for it if she really needed him. If he had learned anything about Suzanne in two years, it was the fact that she was an independent woman who handled her own affairs.

But the more and more he was ruminating about the situation, his gut told him that something was wrong. Dickie-boy was a spoiled rotten piece of shit- and generally those types didn't take too kindly to being told that things they owned were changing.

His fingers restlessly drummed on the tight muscle of his stomach and he huffed out a nervous breath. Maybe if he just called her it would serve to calm him down.

Eames dialed her number and waited as the phone rang and rang. Her voicemail finally picked up on the fourth or fifth ring and he smiled reflexively at the sound of her voice alone. His Annie and they were finally- _finally_- going to get their time together…the life they should have had before Mal's death.

_Hello this is Suzanne Jensen, I am unavailable to take your call, if you'd like to make an appointment for a meeting, please do so at the tone. If you are calling for an emergency, please leave a message and I will return it as soon as possible. Thank you._

"Annie darling, it's me. I'm afraid I have a rather pressing emergency that I need your assistance with." He couldn't keep the joking tone out of his voice and he knew she'd already be smiling, so the naughty side of his mind just came out easily. It was always more comfortable to play, than to deal with the worry and anxiety that was really bothering him. "I'm afraid that thanks to enjoying your sweet body last night, I woke up this morning with an absolutely _unbearably_ rock hard cock and no matter how long I work it with my hand, it's still here. I think it needs your pretty red mouth, love. Mmm, so when you are done giving Dickie-boy the news about your marital restructuring, give me call to set up a meeting. I'm free all night."

He hung up the phone with a warm chuckle knowing that it would only be a minute or so before she called him back.

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne washed her hands and dried them on the pristine white towel as she walked out of the bathroom and back into the kitchen. It all happened in a second. All of her senses coalesced at once to realize what was going on. She could hear Eames' voice playing out loudly in the empty room with a strange echo that sounded unmistakably like it was coming from a phone on speaker.

And then she saw _him_.

Richard was standing at the kitchen island staring down at her phone. He was wearing one of his perfectly tailored three-piece Savile Row suits, as if he was planning to go to the office.

She froze as she saw his hands down at his side, curling into tight fists, the skin almost glowing white as he clenched them. Suzanne swallowed hard as she watched the line of his shoulders go completely ridged. He barked out a laugh that was grating and so dark that it chilled her to the bone.

"Good morning, my beautiful _wife_." He seethed as he kept his back to her, she could hear the venom and malice dripping from his voice. "It seems you and I have something very important that we need to discuss."


	28. Chapter 28

**AN: I think the catchphrase in reviews for the last chapter was, "Oh shit". Unfortunately, you all had good reason for it. This was a bitch to write, and I apologize for the nastiness of it. There isn't anything really explicit, but it is unpleasant none the less.**

**Please read and review…as always it means so much. Thank you to all who do.**

**I am posting this rough to get it out to you all; I will revise if necessary…**

* * *

_Los Angeles, California _

_2011_

* * *

"_Good morning, my beautiful _wife_." He seethed as he kept his back to her, she could hear the venom and malice dripping from his voice. "It seems you and I have something very important that we need to discuss."_

For a moment Suzanne was frozen in place, utterly horrified by what she was seeing; her husband, hearing a rather raunchy message from the man that she was having an affair with. She actually felt a pang of pity for the man, she had wronged him- betrayed her marital vows.

But then she began to think of the way he had treated her in the past two years. Remembering the nights she had cried herself to sleep because she had been so damn lonely, because he had chosen his money and his reputation over their relationship again and again. The way he looked down on her and her parents as if they were plebeians beneath him, and most of all, the way he saw her as nothing more than a pretty brood mare to bear him and heir.

Suddenly anger overwhelmed her and she cleared her throat loudly. "What do you think you are doing? You have no right to touch my phone- that is my personal business!"

"Your_ business_?" Richard snarled as he finally turned to face her. His ice blue eyes were blazing with fury as he stared her down.

"Yes, my business," Suzanne barked, letting her bravery and strength fill her chest. "I am not a goddamn employee that has to answer to you, Richard; I am your fucking _wife_!"

It happened in the blink of an eye. He was standing across the room one minute, and the next his left hand drew back and cracked her across the cheek in a vicious backhand. The force of the impact sent her reeling to the ground and there was actually a moment where her vision went blurry. Suzanne couldn't stop the tears that came to her eyes from the hit and she could already feel her cheek throb in agony. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth and she realized that his wedding ring had made her cut her lip on her teeth.

She flinched in pure fear as he leaned down to growl in her face, "My wife?" He reached out again to wrap his hand into her hair in a tight fist and yank her head up to meet his pulling her to her knees. "You want to be a wife now? Because I'm not looking at a fucking wife, I'm looking a filthy, disgusting whore who is sleeping in my bed."

"You are hurting me." Suzanne whimpered as he grabbed her hair harder.

"What's the matter?" Richard hissed as he pulled her head back. "I thought you'd like this, being on your knees. Isn't that what you do for him? Or should I give you a mouthful of my cock to help you remember? You need to be treated like the whore you are?"

Her heart began to hammer in her chest as he hauled her up to her feet; she scrambled to get her weight underneath her, her high heeled boots sliding on the smooth limestone tile as she tried to take the brutal pressure off her scalp. She cried out in pain as he began to drag her across the room to the couch. Panic surged in her body as he threw her down and climbed on, ripping her thighs apart and kneeling on them as he clamped a wide palm across her throat to hold her still.

He wouldn't take her by force, would he?!

"Please don't," Suzanne whimpered.

"Don't-_ what_- you don't want me to treat you like you deserve?" He sneered, his face only inches from hers as her squeezed her throat tight, cutting off her air with bruising force. "What's wrong, _darling_, don't think I can fuck you as good as a dirty little thief?"

Suzanne's entire body was shaking as Richard's eyes went from furious to maniacal, "Oh pet, you don't think I know _everything_?" He laughed and squeezed her neck harder, "You really don't think that every fucking thing you and your pathetic team of extractors has done hasn't come across my desk?"

"I don't know what you are talking about!?" She gasped out as she could feel her face redden with the pressure.

"Please don't play stupid, it doesn't suit you, Suzanne." He laughed as he put his mouth to her ear. "Woodruff and I have known your crooked friend Dominick Cobb for some time. But recently it would seem that he's been doing a little work for Mr. Saito. Apparently that was Cobb's handiwork that turned Fischer into a babbling moron. But we came to a deal, Saito and I, I am selling off a third of Fischer Morrow's assets to him in exchange for a seat of Proclus' Board of Directors."

Richard nuzzled against her neck and Suzanne shivered in fear at the touch. "So you see I get it all, pet. The best of both worlds, in another month I'll be CEO of Fisher Morrow, and I'll sit on the Boards of both Proclus and Cobol Engineering. I'll be a new fucking _superpower_. And what do you have?"

"Someone who loves me," Her voice was trembling and weak but still defiant.

"Oh, the thief?" He said as he clicked his tongue. "My, my, you really don't know, do you? Saito hired them to get information on _me_. I would imagine that meant using _you _in the process. And honestly, I suppose I can't blame him for fucking you as a bonus to getting the job done, there are few things sweeter than feeling you come. It's amazing for a whore just how tight you are."

Suzanne's heart stopped and literally shattered to pieces at his cruel words. Eames had lied to her…he'd betrayed her again. Tears fell from her eyes in rivers and she couldn't stop them.

"You're lying," She managed to sob out.

"Am, I?" Richard taunted. "Because I'm sure he's such an _honest_ criminal, sweetheart. I am sure he's never, ever seduced a woman to get what he wanted. I bet he told you everything you wanted to hear. Did he tell you he loved you?"

The look of agony on her face said it all.

"Oh, he did," He sighed with a fake sense of sympathy, "My poor naïve little pet."

Richard climbed off her as she stared to shake and cry. Her chest physically _hurt, _like a massive weight was crushing her body. Her hand instinctively came down to cover her stomach, to touch the life that was growing inside her. She sat up, her face throbbing from where he'd slapped her and her head hurt from how hard he'd pulled at her hair. Her throat was raw and scratchy and her legs trembled from nerves as she fought to get to her feet.

He was already standing in the kitchen, smoothing down his hair and adjusting his tie as if nothing at all had just happened between them. He straightened his coat and stared at her. "I am willing to accept this, provided you behave yourself from now on."

Suzanne pulled her ruined ponytail down and wiped at her eyes as she took a few deep breaths to collect herself. When she finally spoke she tried to hold her head up, scraping together the last scraps of her dignity. "I'm sorry for what I've done, it was inexcusable."

He nodded sagely, "Now that you've apologized…"

"I wasn't finished." She continued, her shaking voice getting stronger. "I never should have married you, Richard, and I am quite confident that I can never be the woman you want." She slid off her diamond rings and placed them on the granite counter next to him. "I'm leaving. I want nothing from you, and I am taking nothing with me but the car I purchased with my own money. I have already contacted an attorney to make my intentions clear, and you will receive divorce papers soon. This is also my resignation from my position at Jensen Holdings International effective immediately."

His icy eyes darkened at her words. "Do you have _any_ idea who you are talking to?"

"My ex-husband," She answered calmly. "And Richard, we_ will_ be amicable with this. I respect your feelings, but I will say this once. If you try to hurt me or my family it will be the most costly mistake that you will ever make."

He bristled instantly at the threat and she kept talking. "You know what I am capable of with a computer and a bunch of free time. Ask your friend Saito."

When he said nothing further she reached for her phone and grabbed her bag, going through it to take off her work keys and her badge and leaving them behind with every credit card in her wallet that was a joint account and her checkbook. She turned one last time to look at him. "I am truly sorry, Richard. I hope you find someone to make you happy." Without another thought she turned and walked out of the house and shut the door behind her.

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne made it all the way out to her car before she broke down into hysterics. She sobbed as she pulled out of her driveway not knowing where to turn. She felt so destroyed and so hurt, she wasn't even thinking as she drove to Nita's condo downtown. She parked her car on the street and dialed her phone number. It rang for a moment or two before she answered.

"Hey, Suzanne!"

The chipper tone of her voice, just further crushed her spirits. Suzanne tried to talk through her tears as her voice choked up. "Are you home? Can I come up?"

"Yes! Are you alright?!" Nita said, as alarm raised the pitch of her voice.

"No." Was all she could say before she hung up the phone and got out of the car.

She somehow managed to stumble up to the fourth floor and as she walked out of the elevator she was met with a panicked Nita and Yusuf trailing behind her with worry written all over his face.

"Oh my God!" Nita gasped as she covered her face, "What happened to you!"

Suzanne stumbled and Yusuf was there in an instant, gently lifting her up into his arms. "Just relax, I have you."

"I left Richard," She mumbled quietly.

The couple cast a nervous eye at one another as they stared back and forth before taking her into the condo space. Nita's place was immaculate, full of bright colors and welcoming Indian fabrics. Yusuf settled her gently on the plush brown sofa as Nita ran into the kitchen to wrap ice in a towel for her cheek.

"Did he hit you?" She asked quietly as she crouched down in front of her to gently dab the ice on her face. "Do you want me to take you to the hospital or call the police?"

"Bastard backhanded me," Suzanne answered. "I'm fine though, and no. I left it cut and dry, I want nothing else to do with him, ever. Besides it's just a few bruises, nothing I can't take."

"Can I get you anything? A nice cup of tea?" "Her big brown eyes were full of such concern and adoration. The woman was a godsend and Suzanne had never been more grateful for anyone in her life.

"Tea would be lovely, thank you."

After a few minutes she was able to settle herself down, and the cup of warm Chamomile tea did wonders for her head and her frazzled nerves. In fact she was so calm that she didn't notice Yusuf's disappearance until a loud knock at the door stopped her heart.

Nita opened it quickly and a frantic Eames ran in falling to the ground in front of her to cradle her face in his warm hands. She couldn't help but lean into the tender touch as his rough palms caressed her cheeks. His grey eyes were filled with unimaginable hurt and worry as he looked at her.

"My beautiful Annie, my love, are you alright?"

Suzanne stared at him, looking at his face, his full pouty lips and the small dusting of facial hair that was becoming more pronounced. He was so unbearably handsome. It hurt her heart to look at him, and to hear his voice talk to her in that tender tone. He told her he loved her…and he lied to her.

"Did he do this to you?" His voice had angered considerably as he stared at the bruised skin on her cheek and the growing one on her neck that made an almost gruesome looking collar across the pale delicate flesh.

Eames could feel his blood pressure rising, and his adrenaline racing. That man had put his hands on his woman. He had hurt her.

She nodded slowly and he could literally feel his chest rumbling in a low growl. "I'm going to fucking tear him apart with my own two hands."

Her head snapped up and he was taken aback by the seething anger he saw in her vibrant eyes. "It's over, Eames. He and I are done. I don't need you to fight my battles for me."

"He put his hands on you," He answered angrily. "He hurt you, Suzanne!"

She didn't expect the visceral reaction to his words. One minute she was quietly sitting on the couch and the next minute she was standing up screaming. "You lied to me! I was a goddamn Mark, wasn't I!?"

The accusation blanched the color from his face and he stood up, "Annie, please, love, you have to let me explain."

"There's nothing to explain," She snapped. "Look me in the face and tell me that you didn't steal from me, that you didn't lie to me! That after I forgave you for _everything_ you did to me in Paris, tell me that you didn't lie to me!"

He didn't need to answer her. The way he hung his head in utter defeat and the hurt in his eyes was plain as day. She could feel her heart breaking, and suddenly the thought that this man had fathered her child in all these lies was enough to send her over the edge.

"Get out." She snarled at him, "I never want to see you again."

"No," Eames choked as his eyes began to water. "I can't lose you again, Annie, I love you."

"Love?" Suzanne scoffed, as her tears fell in fresh rivers. "You have _no_ idea what that word means. All you care about is yourself. You left me and now you want me back because another man has me? Where were you a year ago, Edward? Six months ago? Where were you when I needed you? When I cried myself to sleep because my whole world was crumbling down?"

"Please," Was all he could manage to say, "I had to, for Cobb, please believe me."

"I want you to leave." She said as she closed her eyes.

"Darling, I can't…I can't breathe without you, please, don't do this to us." He plead as he finally started to cry.

Suzanne wiped her eyes and squared her shoulders, "I'm not doing anything to us. You did this to us."

Yusuf took the hint and walked over and gently took him by the shoulders. "Come my friend," He said quietly. "You have to honor her wishes; it is the right thing to do."

Eames looked back to her with a devastated look on his face and suddenly Suzanne spoke the first words that came to mind, feelings of the truth. "I would have given you the information, all of it, if you'd only asked me."

:o:o:o:o

It was funny; Suzanne had thought she would never again feel this sort of agony. She had thought she had scattered her heartache with Mallorie's ashes on that beach. But as she sat in the corner of Nita's shower and sobbed out her misery, she felt pain like she had never felt it before. And try as she might to ignore the reason, it was plain as day why she felt the way she did. Even now, as her heart was breaking, she yearned for Eames and his touch with an almost all consuming pull. He was her Heathcliff, who owned every piece of her- mind, body and soul.

She knew he loved her, and deep down she knew that he had only done what he had because of his loyalty to Cobb. But how was she supposed to trust him? Suddenly the desperation of his voice last night made perfect sense. He wanted to run with her so she wouldn't have to hear what happened…or was it because that he wanted to be with her more than the job? Was he willing to throw away everything for her?

A knock on the door ended her revelry, and she sniffled through the now cool spray that was raining down on her head. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to make sure that you were alright?" Nita's worried voice came through.

"I'm getting out." She answered as she stood up and shut off the water.

"I left a fluffy sweater and some yoga pants on the toilet for you."

"Thanks." Suzanne answered as she stepped out and shivered, reaching for a towel to dry up. She froze as she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror.

A small purple bruise was blossoming on her cheekbone, and the handprint around her throat was very easy to make out in and angry bruise. She turned away in disgust as she slid on her underwear, the blessedly soft fleece pants and a huge oversized MIT sweater. It was a feeling of instant comfort and as she pulled on the thick cotton socks that Nita had given her she had to smile despite the pain. She never thought to ever have a woman in her life that she cherished as much as Mal.

Nita was already getting her another cup of tea as she sat on the couch and folded her legs underneath her. "I don't think I thanked you for everything." She said quietly.

"Oh, you don't have to thank me, Suzanne." She said as she sat next to her and handed her a steaming mug of tea. "You deserve all the comfort in the word today."

"Is Yusuf coming back?" Suzanne asked absently.

The woman made a strange face, "No, I told him it would be best if he didn't."

Suzanne felt awful, she was not going to let the eternal drama between her and Eames ruin Nita's wonderful relationship. "Please don't be upset at him because of me. That had nothing to do with Yusuf."

Nita sighed and looked down, "I know you don't want to hear this…"

"He loves me, I know that." She interrupted. "And I love him to, Nita. But that isn't enough for me. I don't want to be with a man who runs all over the world moving in shady circles and making money on the black market as a thief. It might make for an exciting James Bond movie, but you never see Bond married with a family. That's what I want."

"So what are you going to do?"

She took a deep breath and blew on her hot tea before taking a cautious sip. "Go home to Boston, find myself again. I finally want to be happy. For godssakes I'm 34 years old and I need to do what I want for once."

"I'm going to hate finding a new job," Nita sighed.

"Why on Earth do you need a new job?" Suzanne questioned. "Nothing happened to you, I was the one who resigned. I am sure I'll be replaced in short order."

She rolled her eyes and grimaced, "Yeah, I _really _want to work for someone that Richard hires to replace you. No thanks, I'd rather get a job as a chemist somewhere."

"Are you resigning?"

"Giving my two week notice tomorrow," She started laughing. "My parents are going to love this."

Suzanne patted her on the shoulder thoughtfully, "Well, at least you met a man. Tell them that, it will take their mind right off of it."

:o:o:o:o

A few hours later, she had everything under control again. She had talked to her mother and booked a seat on the red-eye flight out of LAX to Boston. Flying coach this time, because she had to borrow the money from Nita, everything was tied up back with her parents. It was a debt she promised to pay immediately despite the girl's protests that she would never be able to get her a going away present from work. My how the mighty had fallen fast, just this morning she had a million dollars on her ring finger, and now she had one outfit.

Oh, well. It wasn't like she didn't have a dresser full of clothes at her parent's house and plenty of money in her account. But damn it all to hell she really wanted her closet full of shoes, what a fucking waste.

She made arrangements with Nita to let her use her car until she could get a transport company to ship it back East. The look on her face was priceless and Suzanne had to playfully remind her that if "she broke it, she bought it".

Finally there was nothing to do but curl up on the couch and try to get a wink of sleep before her flight. She stared at her phone in the darkness. It was her last connection to her life here and she didn't want it anymore. She picked it up and emailed Jenna Algee, her attorney, and gave her mother's contact information explaining the situation in the most general terms possible and letting her know that this number would no longer be in service. She also fired off a text to Nita, despite being in the next room, letting her know her general email address.

Finally she stared at the screen for a long while and for a moment she was ready to pitch it out the window, but her heart overruled her head and she began to type everything that she felt.

_I don't even know why I am writing this, aside from the fact that I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I love you more than life itself. But that was never our problem. Love and sex between you and I, it is something so divine and elemental that I swear it comes as easy as breathing. The problem is I know now that I cannot follow you into the life that you want to lead, and I cannot ask you to live the life I want. It reminds me of that damn book again, 'I said that I should fall asleep in his heaven; and he said that he could not breathe in mine.'_ _So there you have it my love, I'm afraid we are Catherine and Heathcliff after all. Two souls so entwined, and a love greater than anything, but never meant to be together._

_I am leaving Los Angeles, and I won't be hard to find, but please don't come looking for me…please, Edward. If you ever loved me at all, grant me this one wish. Live your life the way you've always wanted and I'll live mine. Just know how grateful I am to have loved you, and there will never be another. _

Suzanne sighed as she hit send, wiping her tears away she walked across the room to the kitchen and tuned on the sink, letting it fill to the top with water. Her phone vibrated and she stared down at it, it was a message from Eames.

She didn't open it.

Instead she tossed it into the hot water, watching as it sank to the bottom with a dull clink. She stared at it for a few seconds until the screen flickered to error and then went totally black.

* * *

**Ugh, I cried writing this…honestly…**


	29. Chapter 29

**AN: Oh, I am so very sorry for the pain my friends. The dragon is lurking.**

**I also wanted to thank everyone for the insane response that the last chapter received. To know that these two have that much love from you all is amazing. There is a little ways to go yet until and end can be had, and to quote Robert Frost. "I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep."**

**Here we have a few days in the life of Eames as he struggles to get his head on straight again, with a little help from his friends of course. : )**

**Please, as always read and review! Thank you and much love!**

* * *

_Los Angeles, California_

_2010_

* * *

Pain and suffering. Eames thought he'd experienced these things in his life. When he was orphaned as a child and he grew up alone and scared, and even in his military and thieving life when he'd taken a punch or been grazed by a bullet. But nothing could have prepared him from the agony of Suzanne looking at him, her beautiful face marred with bruises, with hatred in her eyes and not for the man who caused them- but for him. When she told him she wanted him to leave, that she never wanted to see him again.

He'd managed to let Yusuf drive him home and actually made it into the kitchen of his small apartment and shut the door before he collapsed to his knees in a heap on the linoleum floor and broke down. He sobbed like a fucking girl, his chest hurting with such a crushing pressure that he was actually concerned his heart was physically breaking. He'd stayed on the floor like that for God knows how long, tormenting himself with images and memories- her skin, her smell, her voice. The way she looked at him with open, honest eyes and her whole soul when she told him she loved him.

He remembered the afternoon of Christmas Eve in her parent's home, when they bared everything to one another and made the most unbearably sweet love he had ever felt. And he had betrayed her. It was at that moment that he wondered if the ache in him wasn't from his heart breaking, but rather from the fact that it was empty. Without her love and her unbelievable grace to fill his soul, he was hollow inside; a pathetic shell of a man

It was the buzz of his phone that finally pulled him out of it, and he practically fell over himself to open it up when he saw her name flash across the screen as the author of the text. But as he read it, whatever was left of his heart crumbled to pieces. All he could think of was that he lost her for good. His Annie was gone.

He frantically typed out a simple message, an agonized plea.

_Please, my love, please…I need to see you. Even if it is to say good bye, I need to see you one last time to tell you all that is in my heart. _

Eames waited for fifteen minutes staring at the screen with no answer. His hands were shaking he needed to speak to her. He called and it went right to voicemail, the tone of her instantly destroying him. He had to clear his throat because he was so choked up with emotion he couldn't speak, and when he did, his voice was nothing more than a rasp. "I need you. Please, love…_please_."

She didn't call back. It was around the time that he left the fourth one that he knew it was really over.

A smile filled with self-loathing stretched across his face as he stood up to grab the bottle with the remnants of scotch that was sitting on the counter from New Year's Eve. Yusuf was right after all. His life of decadence had led him inevitably to suffering, and it was a feeling he deserved. She was right when she said he had no idea what love was, the only time that he had even been anyone worthy of affection was when he was with her. He didn't deserve her; she was too beautiful…too good.

And he was nothing without her.

:o:o:o:o

A loud knock on the door dragged Eames back to his senses. He stared around his shade darkened room, groaning as his head pounded with a mammoth hangover. It had been a day…or two…maybe three, since Suzanne had left him and he hadn't been out of his bedroom, with the exception of one stagger to the package store down the street to get a bottle of whiskey. The knocking continued and a minute later he heard Yusuf's concerned voice speak out.

"Are you in there my friend? Please open the door."

He growled back and rolled over, he did not need to hear his friend's good natured and no doubt accurate assessment of the lessons that he needed to learn from the situation to move forward in his life. The knocking continued for a moment and then stopped. Eames closed his eyes and suddenly it started up again, this time as a banging so loud that it threatened to break the door on its cheap hinges, not to mention destroying his eardrums. After only a second, fury replaced the stupor in his mind.

He stood up and strolled to the door not caring in the least that he wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing and hadn't bathed in days. He flung open the shaking door to meet the surprised eyes of Yusuf and the annoyed stare of Arthur.

"Oh, wow, that is _really_ special Eames." The thin point man said in a dead panned tone. "It's two o'clock in the afternoon."

"And your point, darling?" He answered. "Because if you don't have one you can move on and fuck off."

He merely rolled his brown eyes and pushed past Eames into his dark apartment with Yusuf in tow. Arthur looked around the place with his usual silent condescension, shaking his head with a laugh. "So let me get this straight, and I've been trying to do that as Yusuf has told me the whole damn thing. She left her husband, for you, and when she found out what we were doing she told you she didn't want to see you anymore."

"That is the story." Eames grumbled. "Not hard to follow, mate." He was getting more and more irritated with the smart ass as the minutes were passing, and it may very well be the time that he finally punched him in his smart ass mouth.

"No, I realize that isn't hard to follow. What I don't understand is why, when you normally never listen to anyone, about anything, that you have chosen to let the love of your life walk away while you drown in pathetic self-pity?"

His grey eyes narrowed sharply and his fists clenched in response to the man's goading, but he didn't respond. He couldn't actually; Arthur's assessment of the situation was perfect.

"And for the love of God," Arthur snorted sarcastically, "Can you please put some damn clothes on; I really don't need to see _that_."

Eames chuckled, and just like that, the point man had managed to goad him back to sarcasm once again. Instead of covering himself, he instead pulled his arms over his head and stretched his body out. "Darling, we've talked about this preoccupation you seem to have with my naughty bits before. You can't have it, I am in love with someone else and it would never work between us."

He rolled his eyes and tossed a dishtowel that was hanging near the sink at him, "Ugh, honestly what does a woman like Suzanne see in you?"

"I think you are looking at it."

Yusuf smiled at the banter and enjoyed at the sight of his friend coming back to life. "She left to go back to Boston. Nita told me that she's staying at her parent's house." He supplied.

Eames nodded, he'd figured as much. But he was glad to hear that his indiscretion hadn't hurt his relationship with Suzanne's beautiful friend, "So all's well with you and her, then?"

He looked confused for a moment before realization hit and the tops of his cheeks flushed pink. "Very well, thank you."

Eames smiled thoughtfully, as a pang of loneliness pulled at his heart. He missed her so damn much. But what was there to do? She had made it very clear that she never wanted to see him again, and he was quite sure that showing up on her parent's porch after what he did was the fastest way to end up with a body full of buck shot and being dismembered by pigs.

"What do I do?"

He fucking hated the fact that his voice was so soft and lost sounding, he felt like a goddamn kid.

"Do you love her?" Yusuf asked seriously.

"More than anything," He managed to choke out as the tears threatened to overwhelm him. "But I don't fucking deserve her."

His friend's hand reached out to rest on his shoulder, "Than become a man who deserves her. She loves you, of that I am completely sure, so now you must endeavor to earn that love."

Eames laughed with a calm sigh and patted his friend back on his shoulder. "You have a way with words, sir."

Yusuf nodded and snapped his fingers, "Nita said something about all her shoes and clothes being left behind, this is a big thing, right?"

"Annie?" He laughed, "Yes her shoes being left behind are a big deal. That is a good start."

"You need to do something romantic," Arthur interjected. "I got a copy of _Love Letters of Great Men_ and sent a bunch to Ariadne when we first started dating."

Eames raised his eyebrow at the suggestion, "You are giving me romance tips, darling?"

"I am not the one of us that is groveling at a woman's feet," He answered smugly.

"Touché," Eames said with a smile. "But save your book, I have them all in here." He tapped the side of his head.

Yusuf looked puzzled for a moment as if he was trying to figure something out, before he turned to Arthur. "Wasn't that done at the end of that movie with the women?" He snapped his finger, "Yes, _Sex and the City_ it absolutely was."

Eames burst out with a cackle of laughter and pointed at the now very red-faced Arthur. "Oh, mate, no imagination I swear." He took a deep breath as he finally calmed down, the smile hurting his cheeks. "Though I do have to say it is a good idea, even if I am further concerned with your tastes in cinema."

"Fuck off, Eames." Arthur grumbled as he walked to the door, "And take a goddamn shower, will you, you fucking _stink_."

He laughed as Arthur stepped out onto the stairs and Yusuf looked at him with a very serene look on his face. "Thank you, my friend. I owe you more than you know."

"I consider it a repayment of debt for bringing a light into my life." Yusuf answered.

Eames smiled as Arthur's voice echoed back through the room. "And your ass had better be out of this apartment in two days, I am sick of paying your rent."

"Of course, darling."

:o:o:o:o

Later that evening Eames sat in his Audi outside of Richard Jensen's empty house and for a moment wondered where the pitiful, piece of shit man was, as a box truck pulled up and began to load up different sized containers. He realized with a smile that Richard was moving her stuff out.

It was perfect. He got out of the car and casually walked up to the two twenty-something men that were moving boxes.

"Evening, gents," He said casually. "Moving shoes, clothes and personal effects of a feminine nature?"

"Yup," One of them grunted. "We got a wager goin' that this dude's wife left him high and dry. 'Cause you got to see the lacy shit in here. You know it's bad when she don't take her underwear."

Eames couldn't help but smile, "Very astute. So where is this all going?"

One of the guys shrugged, "No idea, he just gave us an address and told us he wanted it gone."

Eames thought for a good long while, "How about I pay you $1000 and you deliver everything to my place instead."

The two guys looked at one another for a moment and nodded, "Fine with us."

"Excellent," He said as he took out a pen and scribbled down his address and pulled out his wallet. "Here's half now, you'll get the other half when I meet you there."

:o:o:o:o

His apartment was littered from floor to ceiling with her boxes and it was going to take him the better part of the day tomorrow to get it all ready to be shipped. Thanks to a sweet phone call from Nita he was able to get her parent's address, and it was probably going to cost him a fortune at the FedEx store, but it was worth it.

He was contemplative as he sat on his bed with a pad of thick count paper from his briefcase, an ink pen and a carton of Chinese takeaway Lo Mein complete with chopsticks.

Normally he should have been able to spit out something completely flawless and polished with little effort. But as the wadded up paper all around him would attest to, he couldn't get his thoughts straight. Perhaps the first letter ought to be less like Shakespeare and more like an instruction manual, letting her know his plans to come, and just a raw, honest admission of his feelings.

_Annie, my darling,_

_I have started this letter so many times, that I scarcely remember what I originally wanted to tell you. Unlike many gentlemen I rarely find myself at a loss of words in a given situation, but somehow I cannot come to write anything but "I love you" over and over again. As if that one sentiment is the only thing that could express the unimaginable pull that you have over my very soul._

_I know now, that I have been a selfish and unmitigated ass of the worst kind, and I am asking for your forgiveness with the abject and pathetic hope that the love you felt for me once will allow you to do so. I have no excuses for my behavior, other than to say that I found myself between a rock and a hard place- and I chose the lives of Mallorie's children over our happiness._

_It is not an excuse, and it is not something that I am proud of, but it is the truth._

_That word may not impress you, given the circumstances of our last meeting, but I assure you, I mean it from the very bottom of my heart. _

_So I leave you with this thought, my love. I am not a man worthy of you at the moment; I have demons to face and a past that can no longer be ignored behind a mask of indifference. But I endeavor to be that man, and I will search the ends of the Earth if need be, until I find the missing pieces that I need to make me whole._

_All I ask is that when I am ready that you let me see you, just once. So that even if it is the last time I look upon you, I will be able to do it with love. _

_I will write a letter a day, and will do so until I am standing in front of you again._

_Until then I am, and always will remain, most ardently yours,_

_Edward_

He read it over and was remarkably satisfied with what he finally had managed to string together. He smiled as he added one last line.

_P.S I also needed to set a few things right for you as well, darling. I am sending with this letter your possessions that were left behind. I don't know if you still want them or not, but I thought that you should be the one to make that decision._

:o:o:o:o

The next morning, a little after eleven, Eames walked out of the local FedEx delivery store $325.88 lighter. But at least Suzanne would have her things back, and he had to admit, there was a sense of almost eagerness in his gut that he hadn't felt in a very long time. He felt like there was a purpose to his life. He walked back to his Audi and stared at the two suitcases of clothes that were in the back seat.

He'd completely packed up the apartment this morning, which wasn't particularly difficult, but he was surprised to see the huge pile of new suits that he'd bought for his cover job that he now knew he'd probably never wear again.

He had bagged them up and was going to just leave them outside his door when he caught sight of one of his neighbors walking up, who looked about his size, in a suit that had seen better days. Eames walked over to the much older man, he guessed he was in his late sixties, and instantly saw the entirety of his life in a moment. The man's skin was aged and wrinkled beyond his years and his hands were rough, a blue collar worker at one time. But it was the way he kept his eyes on the ground that tugged a bit at Eames' heart. He looked like what he imagined his father looked like after years of alcoholism, and he wondered how long this man had been in recovery. Suddenly there was only one thing he could do.

"Excuse me, sir," He said with a casual smile. "I'm moving out today, downsizing actually, and I was wondering if you'd be interested, or know someone who could take some of my suits off my hands." The man looked at him with an odd look, and Eames instantly continued to make him feel less like a charity case. "Bloody sick of the 9-5 life, you know, complete rat race mate. I'm looking to move on with my life."

He nodded after a moment, "Thank you." Eames lifted the bags and walked them over to his door, and was surprised when the man looked at him with a concern in his eyes. "I haven't seen your pretty girlfriend around lately; I hope things are alright with the two of you."

Eames actually froze for a second. "Oh, Annie, well…we are in a bit of a spot right now." He answered quietly, "My fault of course as a foolish man. When isn't it?"

The old man laughed, "Well I hope you two make it through. Although I have been sleeping through the night without distraction since she's been gone."

For the first time in a long time Eames' ears turned bright red, knowing that this man shared a wall with him and with the way that him and Suzanne carried on, he no doubt had heard some pretty interesting things. "Sorry about that, sir." Was all he could manage to say.

"Don't be sorry son, to love a woman that completely, that's a gift from God right there." He opened his door and put the bags of clothes inside, "Don't you let her go, now."

"I won't." He smiled.

"Good luck."

:o:o:o:o

Eames sat in his car and typed on his phone as he finished his airline reservation. He was leaving tonight on the seven o'clock flight to London. He reasoned that it had been far too long since he had set foot in jolly old England, and it was time for the prodigal son to return again to retrace his steps.

But there was one more thing that needed to be done before he left LA behind him for good.

He sauntered into the familiar glass enclosed building of Jensen Holdings International, and after a bit of creativity stealing badges and sweet talking Claire that worked at the front desk, he was on an elevator up to the top floor office of Richard Jensen.

His heart was pounding, but the rest of him was surprisingly calm as adrenaline raced through his body. He couldn't do anything that would leave him in prison, but he figured he could do just enough for that wanker to know that no one fucked with him or those he loved.

The elevator opened and he was greeted with an empty desk, and a lavish set of massive oak doors that led into his private office. Eames walked out casually and was stopped as he heard a very feminine giggle coming from inside. A dark smile curled his full lips, well, well; Dickie-boy certainly wasn't playing the part of the broken hearted husband. With a sigh he straightened up the collar of his grey sport coat and dusted off the sleeves before he took a step forward and pushed through the door.

He was expecting any number of things really, probably a million times more creative than the bleach blonde woman who was kneeling behind his desk in a skin tight black suit with way too much make-up and not enough meat on her bones giving him a rather serviceable blow job as he reclined in his leather chair. What was interesting was that apparently even while having his cock sucked Jensen seemed disinterested.

But the moment he saw Eames his entire face went bright red, and the fury in his icy blue eyes was almost intimidating- almost.

"Don't mind me, Dickie-boy," He said as he calmly leaned against the door frame. "You can finish up before we have our little chat."

Jensen growled and the woman nearly fell over as he stood up and righted himself, zipping his pants and fastening his belt. He stared down at the woman, "Get out of here, Bianca, now."

She obeyed instantly, cowing her head down as she walked past Eames. A look of shame and flush dusted her face and he almost wanted to assure her that she had done nothing wrong. But, there wasn't time for charity or pep-talks today. Instead he waited for the door to close before he stared at the man who had dared to touch his woman with anger.

"Grieving the loss of your wife I see," Eames said in a dark voice completely devoid of his normal amusement.

Jensen scoffed and sneered, "Trading one whore for another. You know it really is a shame I never put her on her knees." He was merely trying to incite him now. But Eames was content to let him dig his own grave. "She used to ask for it all the time, shows the trashy truth about a woman when she's begging for a taste of cock everyday like an animal."

He chuckled to himself, "You really are a piece of shit, aren't you?" Eames stared at him with rage in his eyes as he pushed off the wall and walked over to where Richard was standing, stopping when he was toe to toe with him. "You had her, an absolute goddess, and instead of worshipping her like you should have, you ignored her."

"Worshipping? A little melodramatic don't you think? I don't do that to anyone, least of all not a backwoods little country girl with a smart mouth and a fat ass."

He licked his lips and leaned in further, loving the way that Jensen flinched for the barest of seconds when he whispered. "Mmm, see you are a fucking fool. But it's logical, to satisfy a woman like her, you need to be a_ real_ man. I understand, but I really do pity you, because there is nothing, and I mean nothing sweeter than tasting her come. She tastes like candy, darling. All sugar all the time."

Richard's face was bright red and Eames knew he was winning. He snarled angrily. "She found out just how real I am."

It was a flash, Eames said nothing, dropping back in one smooth move as he cocked back his fist, and snapped it out and into Richard's face without a second thought. The force of the impact sent the six-foot-tall man to the ground like a lead weight and he stared down at him as his chest heaved with anger. He could have pounded him into the hardwood floor and shattered his face in nothing but a few well, placed punches…but it wasn't worth it. Instead he crouched down and listened as the prone man whimpered from the pain.

"That was for Suzanne, you spineless cunt," Eames said quietly. "You put your goddamn hands on her, and I should tear out your fucking throat and feed it to you. But I'm not going to. Instead I'm going to give you a friendly little reminder that I'll be personally watching that you leave her alone for the rest of her life. Because you might have a lot of money and have a few connections to unsavory people, but trust me darling, you don't want to know what I can do with a Fairbairn-Sykes knife and a few minutes of free time. They'd never get to you in time to stop me."

He stood up and flexed the hand he'd punched him with, "So this is where I leave you, Mr. Jensen, to enjoy a long pathetic life alone. I do hope your money keeps you warm at night, but I would make sure to hold it very tight, there are always thieves around every corner."

Without another word Eames turned and walked out of the office and down to his car. He absently glanced at his watch, it was a little after five, perfect timing. He smiled up at the glass building he'd never have to set foot in again as he turned the key and the car roared to life beneath him and he sped out of the parking lot towards the airport.


	30. Chapter 30

**AN: I am crazy with the muse this weekend. Apparently angst and these two equal inspiration!**

**So here we have Suzanne's homecoming, some lovely advice from her mother, and a little happiness, all the girl is missing is the love of her life. But all good things in time.**

**Please read, review and enjoy. It makes me write faster!**

* * *

_Northborough, Massachusetts_

_2011_

* * *

She was home.

Suzanne felt a wondrous sense of calm again, but somehow it wasn't quite the same as before. When she walked into the farmhouse and hugged her mother and father for the hundredth time since they had picked her up from the airport, she suddenly knew just what was bothering her.

Eames had been here with her last. She couldn't look at the kitchen table without remembering the way her savored and enjoyed her mother's food, or the sectional sofa reminded her of snuggling close to his warmth as he held her in his arms. Not to mention, the guest bed, her bed, the upstairs shower and the hay loft that all held memories of passionate and wonderful lovemaking. It was all full of him, and it weighed on her with an almost unbearable pressure.

She missed him so much. But her stubborn pride kept reminding her that he had lied to her and betrayed her.

It didn't get any easier when her mother discovered her little secret.

She was at first overjoyed at the fact that she was finally going to have a grandchild, and then a look of irritation crossed her face as Suzanne explained the situation with Eames in very, very general terms.

"So, let me get this straight, you are carrying his child and he doesn't even know?"

They were sitting in the living room, both in comfortable pajamas nursing cups of herbal tea. Her mother's green eyes were narrowed, and for a moment Suzanne was actually worried that she was going to get up and slap her in the head or something. "That isn't right! He deserves to know that he is going to be a father, and he deserves the right to be in that child's life."

She pouted angrily, "So, what, I just forgive him for his lies and pretend that it didn't matter at all just because I am having a baby?"

"I'm not saying that. What I am asking you is what gives you the right to hide something like that from him. He deserves to know."

"Well I have nine months," She snapped. "I'll figure it out before then."

"What about your doctor's appointments, ultra-sounds and birthing classes? Don't you think that Edward deserves to be there to see those things?" Her mother added, still pushing the issue.

Her hormones were raging and she could feel tears well up in her eyes, "Yes, Mom, he should be there for all of this! He also shouldn't have hurt me again! What am I supposed to do, forgive him because I love him more than anything and just accept the fact that he's going to hurt me over and over again? What about our child, it deserves a father that will always be there."

"Suzanne," Her mother sighed. "Don't get upset sweetie. I am just trying to understand. You keep telling me that he lied to you, but I just can't see him hurting you on purpose. Because I have never seen a man look at a woman with more love in his eyes than when he looks at you. Did he maliciously lie to hurt you?"

"Yes!" She barked, and then studiously noticed the look on her mother's face and she covered hers with her hands. "I mean, no, he didn't do it maliciously." Her voice began to drift off, and Suzanne remembered the desperate way he pled with her to run away with him to Paris so they could be together. Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she admitted something out loud to herself that she didn't want to hear. "He had to do it, and that is what is tormenting me."

Instantly her mother leaned across the couch to pull her into her arms. Suzanne breathed deep as she relaxed into an embrace that had comforted her since she was a little girl. A gentle scratch on her scalp lulled her back to calm and her mother kissed the crown of her head. "I know it is tough baby, but give yourself a little while to get settled and get everything back in order. You have been through a lot. I know after a little reflection that your heart will guide you where you need to go."

"Thanks Momma," She mumbled as she closed her eyes and relaxed.

:o:o:o:o

It was a few days later when the FedEx truck arrived with boxes and boxes filled with her things. At first she was completely perplexed and confused, knowing that there was no way in hell that Richard would have sent it, but the driver handed her a letter envelope at the end of everything and she covered her mouth in a complete daze as she read Eames' words.

He wanted to win her back, and not with empty promises, or expensive gifts, but by becoming a better man. As if on instinct, her hand came down to touch the still flat skin of her stomach. He wanted to see her one more time. A tear fell down her cheek as she realized that there would be no way she would ever send him away again.

:o:o:o:o

As promised, there was another letter waiting for her the next day. She opened it as she curled up on the couch with her morning cup of tea in her fluffy robe.

_My darling Annie,_

_I am sitting at the airport trying to think of something romantic to say as I listen to the senseless chatter all around me. It's insanely distracting. All I can think of is how when you are near me, everything else just seems to fade away. There is nothing but you and me and the very magic between the stars. It is that simplicity I yearn for now, the perfect moment that I fall into your arms and I am complete._

_The thought of going home has me uncharacteristically nervous, my love. I don't even know what I am doing, or what I hope to find, or even if I will know when I do. What I do know is the same undeniable truth that I have known since the first day I laid eyes on you in Paris those years ago. _

_I love you. It's all I really have to say._

_I have just heard the lovely call that we will begin boarding soon, and I want to make sure I send this out before I go. I am not sure if my letters will be delayed by the post coming from England to you. But know that I will not break my promise, love; you will have a letter a day from me._

_Sleep soundly tonight my sweet, and please know that no matter where I am, at any moment you are the only thing in my thoughts and my heart._

_Adoring you now more than ever,_

_Edward_

It was all too much for her. Suzanne couldn't breathe, and she felt like she needed to get away. She stood up and shuffled into the kitchen where her mother and father were talking about a new type of oat that they wanted to try feeding Chico to see if it would help with the older gelding's stomach issues. Apparently as her father was explaining there was a small organic feed store in Boothbay Harbor, Maine that carried it.

"I'll take the drive up." Suzanne offered as she tried to hide the misery in her voice. "I wanted to take a ride to the mall today anyway; I need to get a new phone."

Her mother looked up from her coffee; her eyes were full of concern. "Are you sure that is a good idea, honey."

She really needed time to herself. If she stayed here for another minute she was going to go insane. "Mom, I really want to go. I just need to drive for a little while, maybe I'll stay up there for the night and then I'll head home. I promise that the moment I get a phone I will call you with the number."

Thankfully her father seemed to recognize her desperation. He put down his morning paper with a smile, "Sounds like a plan, banana. You can take the truck." He studiously looked at her mother, noting the daggers that she was flinging with her eyes. "She'll be just fine, Pauline. The girl was 3,000 miles away two days ago, I think she can handle Maine for a day or two."

"Fine," She answered in a voice that suggested anything but.

Suzanne cast her father and apologetic glance and he merely winked at her before going back to the paper and his coffee.

:o:o:o:o

She showered quickly and got dressed in a comfortable pair of jeans and a white turtleneck sweater that was knit with very soft merino wool. She pulled on a pair of flat brown leather boots that went up to her mid calf and threw her hair into ponytail and put on a bit of simple mascara and lip gloss.

It only took her a moment to throw together an overnight bag with her toiletries, pj's and a change of clothes, and she grabbed her puffy black North Face jacket as she walked down the stairs. Her parents were both standing there and she rolled her eyes, it was just like she was a teenager again.

"I am heading out," She announced as her dad tossed her the keys and handed her a handwritten bit of information about the feed shop. "I'll call you in a little bit."

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne tapped the steering wheel lightly as her new iphone blared out her new "I'm divorcing my asshole husband and am pregnant with my lover's baby, who I am currently at odds with" playlist. Admittedly it was a little eclectic, and she probably needed a lot less love songs in the mix. But damn it she liked sappy songs from time to time.

It suddenly beeped for an incoming call, and she was surprised to notice that it was her lawyer calling. She flipped the button on the steering wheel to answer it hands-free. "Hello."

"Hello Suzanne, it's Jenna Algee, how are you?"

"Good," She answered with a smile.

"I got this number from your parents, and normally I would have just left a message, but I have some pretty shocking news that I had to share."

Suzanne's stomach instantly dropped and she felt sick. "Oh, what news is that?" She prayed harder than she ever had before that it wasn't bad news.

"Apparently your soon-to-be-ex-husband _really _wants this divorce done quickly and off the books," Jenna laughed. "I already have the papers back and filed, and apparently he knows someone in the Clerk's office pretty high-up because it is going uncontested and will be filled and official by the end of January. So, congratulations Ms. Jensen."

Her heart skipped a beat and she had to pull over to the side of the highway because she couldn't stop from shaking in utter happiness. It was over.

"It'll be Williams now." She managed to say in a clear voice. "Thank you so much, Jenna."

"No problem, Ms. Williams, I'll be in touch in a couple weeks when everything goes through."

"Talk to you then."

She was free. Suzanne smiled and her heart ached at the same time, she wanted to tell Eames. She wanted to have him throw his arms around her in a tight hug and kiss her and tell her that this was what they had been waiting for. But she didn't have his number to call him. Instead she took a deep breath and pulled back onto the road, merging onto the Maine Turnpike and keeping her eyes straight ahead and her thoughts clear as she drove on.

:o:o:o:o

Her stomach was in all out revolt when she pulled onto the mostly deserted Main Street. The little seaside town was probably one of the most popular summer destinations on the New England coast, but thanks to the icy and inhospitable biting winter temperatures, there was only a relatively small population that called the town home year round.

Suzanne parked in front of a tiny little diner that had a waving "open" flag and walked in. There were only a few seats at a metal counter and she took one of the last empty ones and smiled as the college aged waitress walked over to her a moment later and handed her a menu. She looked down at the simple offerings and ordered a bowl of homemade chicken soup and a glass of water. As she waited for her meal she stared around at the delicious looking case of pies that were next to her. A slice would definitely be on the menu for a snack tonight.

Her ears perked up as she listened to the radio and picked up the slow jangle of a song that she hadn't heard since she was in college. It was a CD she'd actually worn out from listening to It so much, but suddenly hearing Jewel talk about, "Hearing the clock at six am, and feeling far from where she's been", made her roll her eyes as her ridiculous hormones began to get the better of her again. She was going to be a damn basket case for nine months.

:o:o:o:o

Somehow even after the meltdown about the music, Suzanne managed to enjoy her lunch. The food was delicious and she helped herself to a huge sliver of pie to take out and save for later. In fact, when she came to look back on the afternoon in the years to come, she liked to think that someone was looking out for her. She was trying to follow her father's horribly written directions, and somehow managed to end up on the wrong side of Lewis Cove on a small dead end street called Barrows Road. It rode the very edge of the craggy peninsula, and she stared out at the small cottages and boats that sat on the water. It was beautiful.

She came to the dead end and there in front of her was a driveway that led down to a little white house that sat on a small patch of cleared land that was snow covered at the moment, but would be lush with green grass in the summertime and it was surrounded with maple, birch and oak trees. There was even a small dock that went right down to the water. She sighed as she stared at it, realizing it was the sort of little house by the sea that she'd always wanted.

The only thing that made her smile was the realization that now she was at least able to go and look for her own. She started to turn the truck around, carefully backing it up and turning as she suddenly saw someone walking up from the driveway with a real estate sign in their hand. Her heart skipped a beat as the man half heartedly stuck it in the snow. Was this actually happening? She wasn't thinking as she pulled the truck right up to the driveway and jumped out, nearly falling on her backside as her flat bottomed boots slid on the ice and hard packed snow.

"Excuse me!" She called out loudly, waving her hands and catching the man's attention. "Is this house for sale?"

He stopped for a moment and she noticed that he seemed very sad. "It is."

"How much do you want for it?" Suzanne blurted out, not thinking straight.

"You haven't even seen the place yet." He said skeptically.

She knew that she sounded like a babbling idiot, and probably looked like one as well. But she couldn't be anything but honest with what she was feeling; something was telling her that this was what she needed to do. For the first time since Mal's death, she felt like she was thinking like her old self again.

"I know, and this sounds completely foolish, but I think I need to live here."

The man paused and stared at her with a strange look on his face. "You have a family?"

"It's just me," She answered, before her hand came up to her belly and she realized her mistake. "Well for the next nine months anyhow."

The beaming smile on her face suddenly caused the man to completely change his demeanor. He looked back at the house and back at her again. "This was my father's house, I grew up here. He just passed away a few weeks ago."

"I'm very sorry to hear that." She said quietly.

He sniffled and smiled, "He lived a good life. Anyhow, I'm his only child and I have my own place, so I was just going to sell it. I don't really have any need for it, I live up in Bath."

"Oh," She said. "That is a great town."

He nodded. "So anyway, the big city realtor that I hired told me to put it on the market for $425,000."

Suzanne took a deep breath; that was way more than she wanted to spend before she could figure out a way to get a decent income. "I think that is a little out of my price range."

"Well, in this market houses take damn near forever to sell, and this place was a great place to grow up," He said absently. "And to hear that you are gonna have a little one up here that will enjoy the place, I think I might be willing to negotiate."

"What price?"

He laughed, "How about the $75,000 I owe in back taxes."

She was crying_ again_. Suzanne could barely form words as she nodded up and down. "Yes! I'll take it, today!"

She could already see her mother throwing a fit about not thinking it through, and her father telling her that she probably needed to wait until she had it inspected. But the only voice in her head that she could hear was Eames who was telling her, "Darling, the land is worth the money, and even if you have to tear the house down and rebuild it, what is better than a house made with your own two hands."

The man smiled and extended his hand, "I think we have a deal little lady. You want to take a look around the place?"

Suzanne smiled as she stared at her watch, "Sure, I guess the bank part can wait until first thing tomorrow."

:o:o:o:o

She was in love at first sight with the place. It was decently sized, around 2,300 square feet; it had a new roof and a brand new furnace. But she didn't hear those things he was describing. She saw the wrap-around porch that looked down to the water, and the massive field stone fireplace in the living room. The kitchen, even though the older appliances could be replaced, was big enough for an island in the middle, and was separated by a breakfast bar to the dining room on the other side that also had a large screen door that opened up to the deck. She could see Christmas dinner being served to her family around a big table.

The second floor boasted three very large bedrooms, all with picture windows looking out to the sea, and finally a bathroom with a huge soaking tub that looked out to where the sun would set. She walked slowly through the whole place, painted in whites and light blues, very similar to her house in LA, but a world apart, they were traditional nautical colors and this place felt like a home. She stood in the upstairs hallway and imagined with patter of little feet on the hardwood, racing down the hall in the early hours of a Sunday morning to her bedroom door. A little voice calling out for Mommy and Daddy as they jumped into bed to curl up, and lastly she saw Eames, rolling over beside her to throw his strong arms around the both of them and snuggle the entire family.

That was what she wanted. The life she wanted for them. But there was always that nagging feeling that he would never be satisfied with that, that the wide world and the call of adventure pulled him too strongly. Her mother's voice sharply interjected at the point that it wasn't her responsibility to decide, she needed to let him do that.

"Do you like it?" Her tour guide asked with a smile.

"It's so incredible," She answered honestly.

"There is also a good sized out building that you could store a bunch of things in, and the boat launch and dock is in really good shape." He finished.

Suzanne smiled and he continued, "I can call Jane at the bank tomorrow, then we can meet up to do all the paperwork."

"That sounds amazing," She answered, smiling at the fact that she was going from one of the most crowded cities in the world, to a place where people still knew who they dealt with at the bank by first name. "What time?"

"I would say, eleven."

They traded information and then Suzanne was shocked when he handed her the keys to the place. "Here you go."

"But I haven't paid you yet?" She said incredulously.

"No, but all I really have to lose is a person sleeping here for a night if you take off. Not like you can rob me blind taking some old furniture and appliances." He reasoned in a stereotypical logic that Suzanne had missed from east coast country folks. "Besides you have to make sure that you love being here."

"If you insist," She answered with a laugh. "I'll go get my overnight bag." She walked with him to the truck and stared down at the information that she had written when something dawned on her. She shouted over to the man as he was climbing into his truck. "Mr. Carpenter, do you know where Bluehill Farm and Feed is?"

"Oh, you mean Dave's place? Yeah, sure do, I help him with most of his business."

Of course he did. Suzanne laughed at the small town world, "Can you give me directions?"

:o:o:o:o

Later that night she contentedly curled up on the sofa in front of a roaring fire with another bowl of soup from the little diner in town and a grilled cheese sandwich, it was calm, quiet and perfect. There was nothing to be heard but the occasional breeze that rustled the naked trees outside and the faint crashing noise of the ocean in the distance. She was home.

She finished her meal and threw out the containers, remembering the pie that was waiting for her. She microwaved it for a few seconds to heat it up before she eagerly took a bite and grabbed her phone. Her parents had been a combination of shocked and thrilled when she talked to them this afternoon. They both promised to be up first thing in the morning to take a look at the place, and her mother had insisted that she be able to help her get settled as far as appliances and furniture was concerned. She wanted to get started designing her 'grandbaby's' nursery immediately.

But even with the pending busy day ahead of her, she couldn't relax. She missed her friend, so she dialed Nita and waited patiently for her to answer.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Nita, it's Suzanne."

"HEY!" Her voice was full of enthusiasm, "How are you? Is this your new phone number?"

"Yes," She answered with a laugh at her excitement. "And I am amazing. I bought a house in Maine."

"That is just what you always wanted to do!" She sighed. "I am so happy for you."

"Thanks. So what's up with you, anything new and exciting?"

Nita paused on the other end of the line and Suzanne could hear the smile in her voice as she talked to someone that must have been close beside her. "I got a new job."

"That is fantastic, where?"

"At a medical company in Cambridge, Mass, I am going to be the head of a research project that they are doing." The joy in her tone was contagious.

"You are moving to Boston!" She almost yelled back.

"In two weeks!" Nita confirmed. "Yusuf and I are looking at apartments and condos for rent online right now."

Suzanne bit her lip to suppress her grin, "Is Yusuf moving with you?"

She laughed, "It is going to be hard for him to work for MIT if he's living in California."

"Oh, honey, I am so happy for you." Suzanne was smiling, even as the question was right on the tip of her tongue. She didn't want to ask, but she had to. "Has Yusuf heard from Eames?"

Nita sighed and she could tell that not only had he heard from him, but their relationship had been the subject of many conversations. "He has. He's in England right now. Yusuf said something about him going back to Oxford and receiving some sort of Fellowship acceptance that he was due. I didn't even know Eames went to college, let alone Oxford."

"He graduated with a perfect GPA too," Suzanne said absently. "He's very intelligent under that little façade he likes to show. I am glad to hear that."

Her voice probably was in direct contradiction to her words, but she didn't care. She wasn't angry, she was lonely. She was in her little house by the sea that she had always wanted, and the only thing that was missing was the one person that she wanted to share it all with.

But Nita, true to why Suzanne liked her, calmly spoke. "He said to give you his love if I spoke to you, and that he hopes his letters aren't delayed in the mail for too long. But that he's still been writing one a day."

"Thanks Nita." She said with genuine affection.

"You are so welcome. Can we get together when I come out there?"

"Like _immediately_," Suzanne answered. "I'll let you get back to your search. Tell Yusuf I said hello."

"I will, and I'll see you soon."

"Bye."

Suzanne hung up the phone and finished her rapidly cooling pie, staring at the fire in contemplative silence when suddenly a scratching noise came from the sliding door in the dining room. She jumped a mile and ran to pick up the fireplace poker for defense, as her eyes scanned the darkness. Great, Mr. Carpenter was a serial killer and she was going to end up sliced and diced. She should have known that something was up when he offered to sell her the house that cheap, no one does things like that.

The scratching started up again, and this time there was a distinct whining noise that came with it. She cautiously set down her pie on the coffee table and walked in stocking feet, with her poker in hand, to the dining room. She flipped on every light that she could find, and finally a spotlight on the deck illuminated a huge, shaggy, black dog. Suzanne's heart bled as the wind picked up again, and the dog scratched the glass as the gust ruffled its matted fur. It was not a night fit of anything to be stranded outside, man or beast.

She put the poker down and unlocked the sliding door and the dog instantly barged in with its tail wagging. She locked up and stared at her new companion, it was young; she could tell that by the almost silly energy that it wagged its tail with, and by the size and the coat she knew it was a Newfoundland or at least part. As she knelt down beside it, she discovered that he wasn't wearing a collar, and judging by the state of his matted fur and the ribs she could feel underneath; she surmised that he most likely wasn't someone's pet. But it was when he looked at her with the biggest brown eyes that she had ever seen that her heart melted.

"Are you hungry?" She asked quietly.

The dog didn't respond and she stared at the trash in the kitchen, knowing that the only food she had in the house was the crusts of her sandwich and half her pie. But when the dog patiently sat down and stared at her she knew she was done eating for the evening. It instantly gobbled up the scraps and stared expectantly at her as she rinsed out the soup container and filled it up with water so it could have something to drink.

She stared at the matted, muddy fur, and she knew she had to clean him up, but that would require supplies. So instead she called him into the living room and offered him the rug. Like a weary traveler, the animal, which after a subtle observation and the sight of an appendage, she noted to be a boy, curled up on the floor at her feet with a deep, huff of breath.

Suzanne smiled at herself as she looked down at her belly. "So now I have the house, my baby, and a dog…all I need now is a job." She muttered aloud.

Her heart thumped in her chest as a reminder of the one last thing she was missing as well.

* * *

**The story with Mr. Carpenter was actually very similar to the way my parents bought our vacation home in Maine. The house was for sale, the man had passed, and his son took one look at the six of us kids in the car behaving like fools and told my parents that he wanted to sell the house to someone who would make memories as a family there. So they literally got it for the back taxes. Cool, huh?**


	31. Chapter 31

**AN: And the muse rolls on…and Eamsie heads home…**

**I seriously can't handle the fact that I can see this story coming all together…I don't want to leave it…I love these two waaaay too much ; )**

**Thank you so, so much to all who have read and reviewed, it means the world. Keep it up!**

* * *

_Sheffield, England_

_2011_

* * *

Eames turned up the collar of his wool pea coat as a slight drizzle began to fall. He was in Shiregreen, in the northern section of Sheffield, standing outside the town cemetery as his heart hammered in his chest. This was supposed to feel like coming home to him.

But it didn't.

As he drove through the industrialized sections of the city, past places that he researched as being near where he grew up, he felt nothing at all. Not even a flicker of recognition.

Even when he stopped outside the empty lot that used to be the line of row houses where his parents lived, it was like an alien landscape. It had been demolished in the early 1990's to make way for a greener city. He frowned as he tucked his hands into his coat pockets; he was supposed to be able to figure something out about himself. Some sort of great truth that would help him realize what he was missing in his life. But as he stared down at the dirt road in front of him, he knew why he would find nothing in Sheffield.

Because whatever "home" he was looking for was wherever his Annie was.

But there was one thing that he needed to see here.

He walked into the cemetery and pulled out a little scrap of paper that he had jotted down his family's plot information on. He'd discovered that his father had passed away in early 1980 after having a stroke and languishing in the hospital for a year. It was strange; he had always wondered why the man had never made any sort of outreach, even when he was an adult, apparently now he had his answer. Eames had truly been an orphan at three. He walked through the graves, weaving through the large granite monuments, until he came to a section that was fenced off. His heart sank a little; it was the pauper's section.

He opened the rickety wooden fence and stared at the small concrete markers, there were no names, only numbers. In this particular cemetery, there were few enough people buried every year that each person had their own plot, but his parents had been interred together. He finally found it, covered in weeds and overgrown in the corner of the lot. Number 78-135.

Eames stared up at the overcast sky and took a deep breath before he crouched down and pulled away some of the dead grass that had tangled around the simple stone. He stopped a minute later when he realized that somewhere along the line he had started to cry. The raw wind nipped at his nose and he wiped his face against his sleeve.

He cleared off the number and sighed. "I'll get you both a stone, you shouldn't be like this."

He half laughed at the thought that he wasn't talking to anyone, but it felt like the right thing to do. As if they could actually hear him. "And I'm sorry I haven't come by sooner. I don't know why I haven't, angry I suppose. I'm a bloody stubborn ass; that much I must have gotten from you, Dad. But I think I found someone who will actually tolerate it. I still don't know if that was the two of you who did some favors for me to let the stars align on that one, because I damn well know that I don't deserve anything so good. But thank you."

He knelt for a little while longer and listened to the quiet breeze as it rustled through the trees. It was peaceful here. As he stood it gave him a sense of calm that his parents were in a place of serenity, even if their lives had been anything but.

"Goodbye Mum, Dad." He finally mumbled as he kissed his fingertips and patted the cold stone.

As he walked back towards his rental car, his stomach growled hungrily, there had to be a pub or something around here. He figured he'd find something in the center of the city, near the hotel he was staying at. With one last look around, Eames got into his car and drove off, as a small sense of contentment settled in his chest.

:o:o:o:o

The Mercure hotel was in the center of a thriving section of the city not far from the University, it was ironically where he found a little pub aptly named The Graduate. The beer was cheap; they were actually giving away free pints of Guinness to anyone who could give five correct answers in their trivia game.

Eames fired off the answers without batting an eye, and the young bartender was so impressed he changed the game to be any reasonable question that _he_ couldn't answer. If a patron stumped him, they got a free drink, if Eames continued to answer questions, his were on the house. Two hours in, Eames had enjoyed three pints and a delicious roast chicken dinner with mashed potatoes, gravy and chestnut stuffing and hadn't spent a dime.

"Christ man, where the bleedin' hell did you go to school?" The tenth unlucky student moaned.

"Oxford, darling," He answered with a laugh. "Now be a good lad and get me a pint."

He laughed as the group conspiratorially gathered around the bar to no doubt try to outsmart him, but the only thing left on his agenda for the night was writing his daily letter to Suzanne. The subtle buzz of alcohol and his full stomach made for a very relaxed mood as he pulled out the folded paper and pen from his inside coat pocket.

* * *

_My darling Annie,_

_It's funny, somewhere I remember someone or another saying that you can't come home again. I am not sure if I believe it or not, because I am sitting now in the city I was born in, but I don't think of myself as being home. My home is where you are my love; be it soaking in a tub in Paris, rolling in the sheets in ecstasy in Los Angeles, or sitting at your parent's table to enjoy a family meal together in Massachusetts. I am home in your eyes, in your arms, and in the indescribable wonder of your deepest warmth._

_Even the pub I sit in now, enjoying the comfort of a good meal, seems so cold and empty. I can picture you in the clearest detail sitting across from me, like a dying man in the desert hallucinates and oasis of water. I can see your beautiful smile goading me about something you find amusing, and I can feel the way my blood would simmer hotly with desire at the sight of your triumph. That is the Guinness in my veins my sweet, the same way it would make me free with my tongue, it seems to have done the same to my pen._

_But there is no controlling it, or myself. You are my match, my darling, I scarcely admonish myself to say my soul mate; because that is the only way I can imagine the love I feel for you making any sense at all. How can a man be so wholly consumed with thoughts of a woman that he can think of nothing else? Food, drink, and even the air I breathe are made sweeter when you are near. I believe it was your darling Heathcliff that said, "If you ever looked at me once with what I know is in you, I'd be your slave". And you have looked at me, Annie, and I have seen it, in all its wonderful perfection…perhaps that is it._

_But I cannot imagine any servant indentured with a more wanted servitude. I would exist in these chains of passion and devotion that you have shackled and bound me with for all eternity. If this glorious feeling is to be my suffering, I would suffer such bliss for all time. _

_My God, I miss you, my love._

_I can feel myself babbling on like a fool, and I wonder what you have done to the silver tongue I used to possess. It is painfully clear that it no longer is content to spin prose; it longs only to taste you again._

_So I shall close this letter before I let myself dwell on the unbearable realization that my arms will be empty tonight, and there will be no you to pull into them._

_Until my pen meets paper again, I am eternally yours,_

_Edward_

* * *

He cleared his throat as a lump of emotion began to rise up, and he carefully folded the letter, pulling out an envelope that he had already pre-stamped and made it out to her parent's address in Massachusetts. He stared out the window at a red mailbox on the corner and tucked the precious cargo back into his pocket just as a young woman walked up to his table.

"Excuse me sir," She said with a smile, "I was told that you are the one that we are asking trivia questions to this evening?"

Eames laughed and looked at the plain faced girl, her blonde curls pulled up in a pony tail as a pair of bright blue eyes danced behind wire rim glasses. "That seems to be the pattern as of late, love." He said with a smile, feeling the smallest bit like himself again as her face began to glow bright red. "Do you have a question for me?"

"Which English author wrote by the pen name Ellis Bell?"

He sat back in his chair and a smile fell across his face as he bit his full lip in amusement, "Good question, but I am afraid you'll be making a trip to the bar to get me a refill, darling. It's Emily Bronte."

She frowned and then shook her head, "I knew I should have gone with an obscure Latin phrase."

"_Falsum in uno, falsum in onimbus," _Eames replied with a wink as he handed her his empty pint glass.

The girl walked off to the bar and he sat back in his chair, wondering absently what Suzanne was doing at the very same moment. He checked his watch, it would be a little after two in the afternoon, she was most likely helping her father in the barn. He chewed his lip as he wondered just what she would be doing for a career now. She was too brilliant to be unemployed for very long, but it was a shame that she lost all the hard work that she had done for that wanker.

His full pint was returned to him in short order, and he sipped on it quietly. It was a strange lull in the deafening conversation around him that let him hear it. It was the very distinct sound of a perfectly spoken Kensington accent in a tirade of flawless sarcasm.

"So after working for the company for fifteen years, I am considered expendable because that pathetic little bastard wants to make a show of just how much power he has. As if his little stunt of 'look at how big my cock is' will save him, we both know with Suzie gone that whole company is going to complete shit in a week's time."

Eames instantly perked up at the man's conversation, and his eyes flickered over to a couple of very well dressed sixty year old men, who looked like they were wearing clothes made by Henry Poole & Company straight from Savile Row. Though somehow there was a playful youth about them that made him instantly know they would be wonderful dinner company. He stood up and walked over to the table, keeping an amused grin on his face as he interrupted the conversation with his smoothest charm.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you sirs, but I couldn't help but overhear your conversation, you wouldn't be Nigel Roth by any chance would you?"

The older man sat back in his chair and looked him over with a barely concealed gaze of interest, on several levels. "It depends who is asking, though with that mouth darling, I may become whoever you wish me to be."

"You know me as Thomas Heathcliff, unimportant intern to the goddess that is Suzanne Jensen." He replied with a wink.

Nigel's hazel eyes went wide at the admission of his identity and immediately stood to extend him a warm handshake, "Heathcliff, my lad, how wonderful to meet you, this is my partner Robert Thompson." Eames turned as the other man stood to shake his hand as well.

"So nice to see a friendly face, please, sit my boy," Nigel said as he offered the chair next to him. He stared at Eames with scrutiny before he smiled, "My, my, something tells me that you are intimately acquainted with why my little Suzie has gone MIA, and left her husband and her job behind."

"Why would you say that, Mr. Roth?" Eames asked with a smile.

"Well just look at you, and call me Nigel." He needled, "That face, that _mouth_, you smell delicious, that smooth little accent, and with the way you walk I bet you are well-hung and a magnificent animal between the sheets. How was that poor, passion starved woman supposed to stay away?"

Eames actually flushed under his cheeky words but felt the need to clear Suzanne's name. "Annie and I were lovers in the past, and I came to work with her again under very unique circumstances. But I was the one who pursued her, Nigel, and my God I am not sorry."

He stared over at his partner fondly and then back to Eames. "You are so bloody charming it is ridiculous. So, please tell me, is she still in LA?"

"No," Eames answered with a sigh as he took a large swig of Guinness. "She's gone back to Massachusetts I believe."

"You believe, Mr. Heathcliff?" Nigel asked, suddenly very interested.

"At the moment we aren't on speaking terms," He admitted quietly. "And my name is Eames, and yes she knows that."

"I am very sorry to hear that, Mr. Eames," Nigel said thoughtfully. "I always liked that young lady; she is wonderful and very intelligent."

Eames could feel the lump of emotion grow in his throat again and he needed to somehow change the current conversation. "So, I take it by the earlier outburst that you are no longer employed by my friend Dickie-boy, either."

He laughed at the slight and stared at him, "Yes, apparently he decided that it was impractical to have a software department in London when the merger with Fischer Morrow was going to move operations to Sydney. So after fifteen years and countless hours of work I get the courtesy of a phone call to tell me that my services are no longer required. Apparently I am to receive a "very generous" severance package. I told Richard to fuck off and shove his package up his ass. But Bob here, being the sensible one of the two of us, got me to accept it. So that is where you find us tonight, in Sheffield as we drive up to Edinburgh for a well deserved holiday."

Eames laughed at the man's assessment and lifted his glass, "Well, to your freedom, sir." They toasted and he took a sip before he asked. "So, are you retiring now?"

"No, no, my lad," Nigel scoffed. "I'm starting a consulting firm, actually, I need to call Suzie-Q, think she'd be interested?"

"Why not?" He smiled. "I'm sure she'd love to, but I'd call Nita to get in touch with her; she nixed her phone after Richard."

"Very good," Nigel answered. "Look at that Bob, darling, I've been employed for two days and I have already managed to start up a new company. Aren't you proud?"

"Thrilled," The other man answered in a deadpanned tone.

Nigel frowned with and exaggerated grimace and leaned into Eames with a conspiratorial whisper, "Don't mind him, he suffers from a deplorable lack of imagination and excitement."

"Ah," Eames laughed. "You should meet this friend of mine, he's just like that."

:o:o:o:o

Eames woke the next morning with a pleasant headache that reminded him of an incredibly entertaining evening with Nigel and Robert last night. He was loathe to admit that the three of them crawled into a few pubs, and at the end of it all, he was the one who had to be put to bed.

Apparently one should not take grey hair and a tweed cap as a measure of a man's ability to get pissed like a champion. But in the same breath, it was the most entertainment he'd had in a very long time. They parted with the drunken promise that they would see one another again soon for a holiday, and the next time Suzanne was going to be in attendance.

With his trip to "home" complete, Eames stared out of the hotel window into the rainy morning and contemplated his next move. It had been little more than two weeks since he left Los Angeles, and even though the pull to go home was more than he could fight against, he knew that there were a few other things that needed to be set right before he could return. Because he knew without a doubt when he saw Suzanne again he'd never leave her side. He was going to be prepared to settle down and live a normal 9-5 life.

Good Lord, he was actually going to have to get a regular job that he could tolerate for the rest of his life.

His phone buzzed to life with a message, and he stared down at the phone. It was Yusuf.

_Hello, my friend. Nita and I arrived in Boston this morning to move into our new place. It is rather exciting and a strange new endeavor for me, and I hope to see you soon. _

He smiled at his enthusiasm.

_You will enjoy the East Coast; it is lovely country out there. Suzanne's family farm isn't far from the city, I am sure that she will be grateful to have Nita so close._

It was a shameless fish for information, but it wouldn't go over his friend's head.

_Oh, she has moved to Boothbay Harbor in Maine. Nita told me that she bought a little place by the ocean, apparently it is quite lovely._

_I am sure. I will let you go my friend, enjoy your new home._

Eames stared out in contemplative thought as a genuine smile spread across his face, so she finally bought her cottage by the sea that she had always wanted. He chewed his lip as he began to run through the myriad of thoughts that were beginning to assail him. But for the first time, the thought of a life with one woman where he lived a normal life didn't inspire fear or dread, instead it made him feel more at ease than he'd ever felt.

With a yawn, he pulled out his suitcase and fluffed out a wrinkled suit. Perhaps it was time to put his resume together; Yusuf found a position at a University, there was no reason that he couldn't. It wasn't like an institution wouldn't chomp at the bit for a professor that was Oxford educated.

So Mr. Eames, professional thief and forger extraordinaire was getting ready to turn in a life of decadent excess and globetrotting for the life of... a college professor?

A smirk curled his lips as he rebutted his own argument; Indiana Jones seemed to do just fine…


	32. Chapter 32

**AN: I have serious issues with this. My muse is a crazy lady that I think I need a restraining order from…I just can't stop…**

**I am so, so happy to have gotten such love about this story, seriously, I have no words guys…just THANK YOU!**

**And to the Sarah M, from Sheffield, I am so damn happy I got it right! Thank the Lord for the internet…and glad to hear my OCD research actually makes sense!**

**So without further ado…we are getting closer…**

**Letting this out rough before bed…cause I have to!**

* * *

_Boothbay Harbor, Maine_

_2011_

* * *

_Two months later…_

Suzanne breathed deep as the intoxicating aroma of homemade lasagna floated through her house. She stared around her kitchen marveling at the way everything had come together. She'd installed all new stainless appliances and upgraded the sink to a deep farm style one; it was part of a house that she was quickly coming to adore.

There wasn't much in the way of repairs that needed to be done to the place, just painting and new furniture. She had bought an overstuffed navy sectional sofa for the living room, and a round table that seated four, but pulled out to seat six with spindly country style chairs for the dining room. Upstairs she made one bedroom into her office with an antique cherry desk she'd found at a local shop, and a host of new computer equipment that made her job as an IT consultant easy.

She'd been busy on the work front. Thanks to Nigel Roth, her former Jensen Holdings Colleague, who had started up his own IT company. They'd only been working together for a little over a month and already had six or seven major accounts that easily were worth six figures a piece. It went without saying that having Nigel as a boss was infinitely better than Richard.

Her bedroom was the last place she'd furnished, splurging on a California King-sized bed with expensive, fluffy down bedding, a chest of drawers with a mirror and a wardrobe, all in a white wood to accent the light yellow walls. Admittedly, and perhaps ashamedly she'd made sure to leave plenty of room in the dresser and the wardrobe for Eames' clothes.

If the time ever came when he wanted to fill it.

The nursery was still empty, with pure white walls. She didn't want to paint it until she found out the sex; that was another ten weeks away.

She smiled as she stared down at the olive colored sweater that she was wearing over a pair of black leggings; the small bump of her belly was plain to see. The doctor said she was showing a little earlier than normal at three months, but her mother had been quick to remind her in front of the physician that she was already in maternity clothes at the same time, thanks to Suzanne's less than slim weight in utero.

A scratching noise pulled her out of her day dream and she saw the adorable face of her fluffy black dog looking through the sliding glass window at her asking to come in.

"Hold on, Mr. Heathcliff," She announced, despite the fact that she was talking to an animal. It was a habit she had learned from her mother that just wouldn't quit. She grabbed his dirty towel that she kept by the door to keep his muddy feet clear as she let him in.

It was early March, a spectacular time in Northern New England that began an unofficial season between winter and spring that locals just called "mud season". It was aptly named, though not particularly creative, because the ground actually turned into a nasty soup as the snow melted.

The dog obediently stood on the mat as she wiped his feet and his tail wagged playfully. He'd shown up the first night that she moved in with matted fur and half starved, after a trip to the vet the next day and by the animal control office in town to make sure that he wasn't a lost pet, he was hers for good.

And the name, well there was only really one thing she _could_ name him. It was both a good natured joke at her expense, and a subtle reminder that the real Heathcliff was still out there.

She grabbed a small biscuit out of the jar on the breakfast bar and tossed it to him for his patience before giving him a good scratch behind the ear. "Good boy."

Suzanne was uncharacteristically excited for her normally boring Friday night. Nita was finally coming up to visit from Boston. She hadn't had a chance to see her since she moved a couple months ago. Apparently her new job was taking up all her time, and with the rockstar way that her former assistant did everything, she wasn't surprised in the least at her success.

But she had missed her friend terribly, and felt wonderfully selfish that she was going to have her all to herself for the night. It was the reason for the lasagna and the decadent caramel cheesecake that she had planned for dessert.

:o:o:o:o

It was a little after six thirty when she saw headlights in pulling slowly up the driveway. Suzanne smiled as her friend walked up her stone walkway with a beaming look on her face as she took in the house and surroundings.

She looked amazing. Her chocolate brown hair was shiny and loose and she was wearing a mustard colored poncho over dark skinny jeans and calf high brown boots. The colors set off her naturally bronzed skin, but there was the unmistakable look of love that shown in her bright brown eyes that made Suzanne almost break down.

She let her in the front door and the two women embraced in a tight hug.

"I have missed you so much!" Suzanne managed to say as she felt her eyes watering.

"Oh, I've missed you too!" Nita gushed. "It's been so long…"

Suddenly she jumped back from Suzanne's body as if she'd been burned, her eyes falling down to her stomach and instantly going as wide as saucers.

"Wait, are you pregnant?!"

Suzanne sighed; there was no hope that her little secret was going to remain one from her good friend forever. "I am." She answered simply.

"Wait," Nita looked absolutely floored. "When did this happen? How far along are you?"

She laughed and realized that they were still standing in her doorway. "Why don't you come all the way in the house first and get settled."

Nita followed her in and Suzanne grabbed the bottle of wine out of her hand, uncorking it with a 'pop' and pouring her a glass before she gestured for her to sit down at the breakfast bar. She took a deep breath before she started, "I'm about three months along, I am pretty sure I can pin the conception to December 21st."

Her friend sipped at her glass of Shiraz quietly before she spoke. "It's Eames' then."

"Yes," Suzanne admitted. "It's his."

"He doesn't know." She said matter-of-factly.

Suzanne could hear and uncharacteristic note of harshness in her normally always calm voice. "No, I haven't spoken to him about it yet."

"You really need to tell him," She said seriously. "He deserves to know."

Suzanne crossed her arms in defense, as if she was trying to shield herself from the awful realization that she was making a huge mistake. "So, what, you are on his side?"

Her voice was a bit testier than she really intended it to be, but Nita wasn't backing down at all. "I am not on anyone's side, but I do care very much for you both, and I count you both as friends. I would like you both to be happy."

Suzanne could feel her face getting red. She'd been hearing this from her mother non-stop since she got home, and now she had to hear it from her good friend as well? She huffed loudly and threw her hands up in the air. "And what am I supposed to do, forgive the fact that he lied to my face? I don't want to be with a liar."

Nita took another sip of her wine and looked at her calmly. "I don't want to make you upset, Suzanne. But if you'll let me I do want to talk to you about it. I mean I am the neutral point in all of this."

"Fine, you can talk." She huffed, internally cringing at the way that she sounded just like her damn mother. Lord help her, she was turning into Pauline.

Undaunted Nita continued. "Alright, so you keep saying that he lied to you, and I understand why you would be upset about that. A breach of trust in a relationship in unacceptable; but I am asking you, what is it that he lied to you about?"

Suzanne bit her lip; she didn't really want to get in the specifics of Cobb's situation. "He and I were working together on something, but what I didn't know was that I was purposely being deceived so that he could acquire information from me."

"So he mislead you to get information, this would follow that he was committed to something himself, am I right?" She asked carefully.

"I suppose."

"And it follows that he most likely gave his word to this other arrangement, and therefore was torn between his loyalty to this other cause and his loyalty to you." Nita finished.

"Well, yes." Suzanne admitted, as she remembered his first letter and his confession that he only did what he did to secure Cobb and his children's freedom and safety. But then she remembered that night in his car, when he desperately begged her to run away with him, when he told her that he wanted to throw it all away and be just the two of them for the rest of their lives. Suddenly it hit her like a sledgehammer in the chest, he hadn't done it to hurt her; he did it because he had no choice. He did what was right, and had been groveling at her feel ever since begging for her forgiveness.

Tears started to fall from her eyes as she recalled the letter after letter that he had written her that were so beautiful and so romantic they rivaled works by Lord Byron and Percy Shelley. She had a man confessing his undying devotion to her over and over again, and she treated it like garbage, and that was what she felt like right now.

_She_ didn't deserve _him_.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry, Nita," She started to cry. "I am an awful person."

Nita instantly was across the small space, pulling her into another hug. "No, you aren't an awful person, Suzanne." She whispered as she rubbed her back in soothing circles. "You are such a wonderful person; you are one of my very favorite people."

"I'm such a bitch," She moaned. "Did you know he's been writing me love letters? One a day since I left LA, and they are better than any fucking romantic poetry that I have ever read."

"That sounds like Eames," Nita replied with a laugh.

"What man tells a woman that he would be content to 'exist in the chains of passion and devotion that he has been shackled in for all eternity'?" Suzanne sniffed. "He actually wrote that for me, he tells me over and over everyday how much he yearns to hold me, and I haven't once even thought about writing him back…what the fuck is _wrong_ with me?"

"Nothing is wrong with you," Nita said quietly. "You are very strong-willed, and that is why Eames loves you so much. He cherishes the way you hold to your beliefs, and I do not believe that he would work so hard to be a good man if he wasn't trying to win the heart of a good woman."

Suzanne smiled, "I am so goddamn happy you walked into my office and applied for that job."

"Me too," She answered with a laugh. "Certain parts of me are _very_ happy I made that decision."

Suzanne pulled away and frowned, "Oh no, he's corrupted you too just from talking to you hasn't he?"

Nita giggled, "Nooo, I am pretty sure birds of a feather flock together for a reason, honey."

She was legitimately shocked at the revelation. Who knew that sweet, cordial Yusuf was really another wolf in sheep's clothing, "Wow," was all she could say. "Damn, I'm glad girl."

Nita crossed the room and grabbed her phone and a business card, scribbling down Eames' number. "You don't have to call him tonight," She said, "but you do have to call him tomorrow when I leave."

Suzanne stared at the paper and touched her belly, hoping that he would be able to forgive her for what she had done. "Do you think he'll be mad?"

She hated the fact that her voice was so weak and scared, but the terror suddenly gripped her with a terrible strength. What if he took one look at her and was furious that she had hid her pregnancy? What if he didn't want to be a father after all?

Nita shook her head slowly, "Will he be shocked, I imagine so, and yes maybe he will be a little hurt as well, but this will pale in the face of how much he loves you." A sly grin slid across her mouth as she sipped her wine, "I hope you have been reading up about sex and pregnancy, because I have a feeling that you are going to be having a lot of it."

Suzanne flushed bright red as the timer on the oven finally went off for the lasagna. "Isn't that how I _got_ pregnant?"

"Now that is going to be a good story to tell the little one, see Daddy was playing Mommy's intern…"

She hefted the pan out of the oven and rested it on the stove as she started to laugh hysterically. "That's not funny; I don't want to tell my baby they were made because their mother couldn't say no and got knocked up on top of her desk."

"You were a Vice President with a corner office, I'd be proud of that."

Suzanne sighed as she grabbed two plates and the bread she'd sliced before she served them both, gesturing that they go sit in the living room and watch a movie. She couldn't help but think of Mallorie and miss her dearly at the moment, but in the same breath she was so very grateful that someone had seen her worthy enough to have two wonderful friends to share her life with.

:o:o:o:o

The two women spent the night watching romantic movies and gorging themselves on cheesecake and strawberry sauce. Suzanne almost freaked when Nita revealed that she'd never seen either, _The Princess Bride_ or _The Last Unicorn,_ two of her absolute favorite childhood movies. And after she tersely answered that she did not grow up under a rock, she grew up with strict parents and without a television; they sat together and made it through both of them with only minimal tears.

Suzanne felt comfortable for the first time in a long time in her far-too-big-bed with her friend curled up next to her and Mr. Heathcliff at her feet. Nita's advice rang in her ears and she wanted so much to talk to him. Finally after tossing and turning for an hour or two she walked downstairs and grabbed her phone and the card with his number on it.

She stared at them for a few deep breaths before she dialed the number, her heart hammering in her chest, not knowing what she would say if he answered. Perhaps having mercy on her rumbling stomach, it went to voicemail. But the moment she heard his honey smooth voice, her entire body melted into a puddle of complete and utter longing and want.

_You've reached Eames; I'm currently unavailable at the moment. Please leave a message and I'll return your call._

"Eames…Edward…it's Suzanne." Her throat was tightening up as she tried to speak, and she couldn't control the way her pulse was racing. "I really need to speak with you, to see you. Please call me…I love you."

She hung up; shocked that she'd said it. The sentiment just came out, as it always did with him; it was as natural as breathing. And she meant every single word. When her phone remained quiet for another ten minutes she frowned and made her way back upstairs, maybe he was sleeping, and would call her in the morning. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne slept longer than she wanted to the next day. It was a combination of emotional energy that was swirling in her mind, and her pregnancy, but when she finally got up at noon, Nita was crouched at her bedside placing a kiss on her forehead. "Afternoon sleepy head, I am going to head out, but we have to get together soon, alright?"

"Absolutely," Suzanne answered as she sat up. "Let me walk you out."

"You don't have to; I got it, go take a nice shower and relax today."

She nodded and hugged her again as she walked out, her boots echoing on the hardwood floors. Suzanne listened for the door to shut and she finally got up, shaking her head at the still sleeping fluff of dog at the foot of her bed. "Some guard dog you are, Mr. Heathcliff."

She shuffled down the hallway and into the bathroom, sighing as she turned on the water to a comfortable temperature and jumped into the shower. She hummed as she soaped up with lavender body wash and she took her time scrubbing herself and shaving until she was smooth. There wasn't anything planned today, perhaps she'd take a nice walk with the dog up the peninsula. She dried her long hair and put on only a small bit of eyeliner and mascara, keeping everything simple with just clear lip gloss. Humming softly she put on a fitted white turtleneck sweater that was long enough to cover her backside, she pared it with grey leggings and her brown calf high flat boots.

It was around the time that she hung her towel back up in the bathroom that her lazy dog stretched and bounded off the bed. "Oh, so you are ready to get up now?" He merely wagged his tail in reply and she rolled her eyes, making her bed and fluffing the blanket at the end where he slept.

"Well, come along then," She waved as they both made their way down the stairs. She fed him his morning breakfast and ate a bowl of cereal, drinking down an additional two glasses of milk because for some reason it was all she was craving, as she checked her phone. There was still no reply.

She tried to stay positive, reminding herself that there could be a million reasons that he hadn't called back yet. He was probably busy.

Suzanne rinsed her bowl and placed it in the sink, when a knock suddenly came from the front door. She twisted her face, wondering if Nita forgot something as she toweled off her hands and walked down the hall. There was another gentle knock and she sighed, "I'm coming, one minute please."

She opened up the door with a smile, and as she lifted her head up to see her visitor her entire world stopped. It was as if time itself had slowed and everything around her disappeared, because there he was, standing on her door as handsome and unbearably wonderful as the first time she saw him.

He'd come back to her, finally, her Edward was standing in front of her again.

Suzanne swallowed hard as she looked at his navy pea coat and his freshly shaven face, the cool March air giving color to his beautiful lips. He smiled at her, a full smile that made his entire face light up, and it was the most beautiful thing that she had ever seen, until his grey eyes traveled down the length of her body before falling on the little bump of her belly that was visible beneath her snug sweater.

In the same instant all the warmth drained out of his eyes.

Her heart was racing and her inner voice was screaming, what had she done…


	33. Chapter 33

**AN: So yeah, more. I just couldn't stop after that cliffhanger last night…**

**And damn it if I didn't get all emotional writing this.**

**I want to take this time to thank everyone who has been so kind lately with their words, I have been through a rough patch personally, and I am sure it is bleeding over into my work, so to know that it is enjoyed really makes it all worth it.**

**Probably only a few more chapters to go…I don't think I can handle it… ; )**

**Please read, review and enjoy! Much love to you all!**

* * *

_Boothbay Harbor, Maine_

_2011_

* * *

Suzanne stared in shock as Eames stared back at her, a maelstrom of emotions swirling in his grey eyes. She saw them all, hurt, anger, betrayal, and strangely there was something akin to fear in them as well. Her hand came up to touch her belly, almost as if she was hardwired to do so as a female protecting her unborn baby from an aggressive male that could mean it harm.

"Hello, Edward." She finally managed to whisper, unable to control the longing in her voice, the need that she had just to reach out and touch him.

"Annie," He answered, the tone was strange- desperate.

She was expecting any number of things, from him to simply turn and run away, perhaps for him to scream and threaten her-or even to tell her that he wanted nothing more to do with her ever again. But she never expected the way his eyes watered and his voice trembled when he spoke.

"Is it mine?"

"Yes." She answered quietly.

Suzanne could actually see his throat working to keep the emotion at bay, and he coughed as he continued. "Did you know… did you know when you left Los Angeles?"

She lowered her eyes to the floor, feeling an absolute wash of shame take over her body. "Yes."

She saw his fists ball up and for the tiniest instant she flinched, and her heart raced, fearful that he might hurt her the way that Richard had.

"You kept that from me on purpose, then." Eames' voice had an edge of anger to it, and she instantly bristled and was on the defensive.

She crossed her arms across her chest and hugged herself tightly, "I didn't hide it from you on purpose. I found out the morning of the New Year's party, and after that…things got so…so messed up so damn fast that I didn't have time to say anything."

He was quiet for a moment before he answered her, his voice hardening. "We were together in my car that night, why didn't you tell me, Annie. I think it was pretty clear you had my _undivided_ attention."

Suzanne frowned and heaven help her she could feel the anger rising up in her body. So this was her fault? He was going to take no responsibility at all?

She gritted her teeth and snapped at him, "Yeah, well, I had a lot on my damn mind."

"And you didn't think the fact that you were carrying _my_ child was something that I had a right to know, hmm?"

She was furious, "I know being lied to by the one person you love feels like shit, doesn't it?!"

Eames took a step towards her, his grey eyes hard, "That was fucking different and you know it, Suzanne."

He was so close to her that the waft of his musky cologne was wreaking havoc on her senses. The anger and adrenaline were all rolling together to create an indistinguishable cocktail of lust and need that was making her dizzy. She didn't know where she got the strength to lift up her chin and stare at him, only inches from the lips that called to her.

"I am going to be a mother, all I could think of was the fact that I needed to get away from there and make everything safe and stable for the two of us. And I am not sorry about that, I need to do what is best for the baby."

Suzanne looked up at him, her green eyes strong and determined. She meant every word. Eames hung his head for a moment, taking a deep breath. His muscular shoulders fell and when he looked back up at her, his beautiful eyes were filled with agony and utter disgrace.

"Are you concerned about me being a father?" His voice was so small and he looked like a little lost boy, petrified at what she would say. "I know I have no idea what to do, and I've never had a family, a father of my own to learn from…I understand if you…if you don't want a man like that."

Of all the things he could have said to her, all of the flowery words, the promises of devotion. It was the rawness and the honesty in his plea that literally broke her heart and stripped away all of the ridiculous pride and bullshit that she had allowed to pile up between them.

There was nothing but a man and a woman, two twin souls who had fused to create something wonderful. And finally it was just that simple. They belonged together.

"Oh, Edward, _no_, it was never that," Suzanne breathed as tears poured down her face and she couldn't stop herself from closing the distance between them and taking his cold face in her hands, unable to be separated from him any longer. Her mouth took his in a hungry, desperate kiss as his arms slid around her in a tight hug.

Her heart hammered in her chest and somehow soared at the same time. It was an incredible feeling, she felt like she was so full of love she was going to burst. She eagerly delved as deep as she could in his mouth, tasting the familiarity of home, as it mingled with the saltiness of their shared tears.

His large hands came up to cup her face and he rested his forehead against hers as he openly trembled under her touch. "Annie," He breathed. "I missed you, my love."

"I missed you too," She answered as she leaned up to kiss him again. Her body instantly coming alive under his hands, and suddenly she needed to be closer to him. Skin to skin, her lips were frantic against his as her hands wound into the lapels of his coat pulling him into the door with much less grace than she would have liked to admit to.

"I need you," She gasped as he tried to close the door like a gentleman. She settled for kicking it shut and practically pulling him up the stairs to her bedroom. "Please, I need you right now."

His eyes were trying to take in his surroundings, but when she reached out to him to strip off his coat, and his clothes, suddenly everything else faded away.

Suzanne pulled off her clothes and finally stood in front of him completely nude, and for a moment she felt a pang of self-consciousness. Her hands nervously reached to cover the swell of her stomach and her insanely sensitive nipples, worried that she looked different to him. She'd read God knows how many articles about men who found their partners bodies to be unattractive during pregnancy.

But as he finally pulled of his last article of clothing and turned to her, there was no mistaking the complete and total arousal of his beautiful, muscular body. He stared at her with adoration in his eyes, and moved to gently lift her into his arms and carry her to the huge softness of the bed.

She settled against the pillows as he crawled onto the mattress, moving in between her legs like he had done so many times before and stopping. She could see him shaking with nerves and she sat up to kiss him gently.

"It's alright, if you don't want to," She assured him.

A crack of a purely Eames grin slid across his face and it instantly served to put them both at ease. "Darling, if I don't touch you soon, I'm afraid I am going to literally die from it. But, this would be the first time for me, in this _particular _circumstance. I find myself to be a little bewildered."

Suzanne cocked her head with confusion for a moment until it dawned on her; of course, he'd never made love to a pregnant woman before. She blushed as she felt her hormones racing and her entire body coming to life. "Um, the doctor told me that you…_we_… can do anything, we want… as far as positions go… we just can't press on my belly, and I can still lie on my back for another month."

He smiled tenderly and leaned in to kiss her. "Then lie back, my love," he whispered against her lips. "I want to put my mouth all over you."

She obeyed with wide eyes as he followed her, making sure to give her enough space as he took her mouth in a deep, searching kiss before moving to her neck, and down to her breasts where he nuzzled the tender flesh. He latched onto the nipple with an eager suckle and Suzanne felt a sharp twinge of pain shoot out.

"Ah, easy, baby," She cried out as her back arched. He lifted his head completely perplexed as she further explained the situation. "I am so sensitive, it hurts."

"I'm sorry, love," He answered as he lightly kissed the raised skin, feathering it with his lips and his tongue in the barest caress. "Is that better?"

"Yes," She whispered as she sensitive tissue sent a fluttering of sensation down her body to center hotly between her legs. "Oh, God, that feels amazing."

His full lips moved down her stomach, gently kissing the soft flesh until he came to the mound of her belly. He stopped and stared at it, his large hands coming up to reverently caress it, like a precious jewel. "It's _so_ beautiful, Annie." His head dipped down to put his mouth on it, peppering every inch with slow, licking kisses, "So beautiful."

Suzanne could feel her legs shaking as tears fell from her eyes. Her entire center was throbbing with anticipation and need, and she felt wetter, and more aroused than she ever had in her life. It was as if he could hear her thoughts. She felt him open her thighs, softly stroking the skin and take a deep breath, as if savoring her, before his tongue parted her folds and caressed her aching flesh in a passionate kiss.

It was incredible. Her body awakening with sensations she'd never felt before. An act that she had enjoyed with him countless times before suddenly was brand new. The emotion of the reunion and the absolute skill of his movements already had her insides coiling tight, and it wasn't long after a particularly hard suckle of her clit that she came apart.

Suzanne cried out in surprise and euphoria as waves of sensation rocked her body, everything inside her clenched and released in a wild spasm as her climax took hold.

A satisfied smile spread across her face as she relished the feeling that there was no reason to be worried about being with him anymore. There was nothing, and no one to stop them.

"Goddamn it, love, you are so fucking delicious," Eames groaned lowly as he licked his lips. "I've been craving it like an addict for months."

She chuckled happily as she stared at his gorgeous and so eager hard flesh, straining for her with a proud jut. "It must have been so _hard_ for you, baby. I'm sorry."

"Unbearable," He whispered as he slid his hands underneath her backside to take hold of her hips as he knelt on his haunches, lifting her up.

Eames stared down at her with complete and total devotion. His beautiful goddess, pale skinned and long legged, her ebony hair covering the snow white pillows as her emerald eyes looked back at him with only trust and love. She was finally his, forever; and there, he could scarcely comprehend it, a small swell of flesh that would tie them together eternally.

There was a strange emotion that suddenly took over him, something that called to the very essence of his maleness. It was an almost primal caveman feeling of possessiveness when he looked upon her. It was as if his seed taking root in her womb was a physical confirmation of his masculinity; undeniable proof that he was a man.

_He_ did that to her, she _belonged_ to him.

It ratcheted his already insane raging passion to another level.

He tried to stay in control of his head as he took his rock hard cock in his hand and guided himself into her blessed warmth. She felt like heaven, and after traveling around the world in the past few months, to the myriad of places he'd rested his head in his lifetime, he was home here, in a place he'd never been.

They cried out in unison as he slowly sheathed himself to the limit inside her wetness and started a careful rolling motion with his hips. The movement pulled his length in and out of her at a gentle pace, and Suzanne could feel every single delicious inch of him. Admittedly it hadn't been that long since she'd been with him last, but for some reason it felt brand new .

She wasn't the only one who felt it. She could see Eames' chest rise and fall in deep, heaving breaths, and when they made eye contact, the intensity of his stare sent a tingling sensation, rocketing down her spine.

"Love…I can't…I can't stay like this…I need to go harder…" He growled as his hands tightened on her thighs, his voice was savage. "I need to fuck you harder, _please_."

Suzanne felt her heart racing, pounding out of control. "Yes," She nodded furiously, "Please, I can take it. Give me more."

At her permission he instantly obeyed, snapping his hips and getting into a fast rhythm that took her breath away. Suzanne cried out as the tip of him rubbed against her insides in the perfect way, sending a gush of moisture out to aid his pace. In a daze of hormones and bliss, she looked up at him and could barely quantify anything other than what her brain could process on the simplest level.

This glorious, magnificent man was going to be hers forever, the father of her child. It was that thought that sent her over the edge again; she shook and cried out her passion as he rode her harder and harder.

"I love you!" She screamed as her entire body seized in the throes of ultimate bliss.

Eames felt his heart surge at the feeling of the velvet vice of her orgasm as it contracted around him and knew it wouldn't be much longer before he lost it. "Yes, my love," He panted loudly, "Come, let me feel it…_God_…I love you, woman!"

Suzanne could feel him change, swelling to that impossible stiffness before he broke. His head fell back as his mouth dropped open in a shout of pleasure and triumph that echoed through the house.

They were both shivering as he pulled out of her body and curled up beside her, kissing her face and taking her into his strong arms in a loving embrace. There was a peaceful silence in the room and she scratched at the back of his neck affectionately before she spoke. "So I take it I am not going to get my letter today?"

Eames chuckled as he nuzzled into her neck, "That _was_ your letter. But I can still write one later if you'd like."

Suzanne laughed, "No, we can just do that again instead."

He was silent for a moment and she could tell that he was contemplating something by the way his fingers lazily played with the comforter next to her. "What is it going to be, love?"

She smiled when she figured out what he was asking, "The baby? We won't know for another ten weeks or so. Do you have a preference?"

"Just healthy," He answered as he rested his palm on her belly, practically covering the whole thing. "It came from you so it will be perfect, boy or girl."

Suzanne breathed deep and couldn't get the feeling of love and unimaginable happiness out of her mind. She smirked as she stared down at him, "So, I just wanted you to know that I find myself single these days, Mr. Eames."

"Is that so, darling?"

"Mhm, as of January 31st."

Eames kissed her neck and nibbled on her ear lobe, "Well then, what are you doing this Monday?"

She bit her lips as he kept kissing her, "Nothing, hopefully spending the day in bed with you."

"Oh, indeed, we'll be in bed. But I was rather hoping you'd take a little trip to city hall in Bath with me on Monday." He said as he stroked her belly.

"Why ever would I do that?" Suzanne whispered as her heart raced.

"Because I want to marry you, darling," He answered matter-of-factly. "What do you say about making an honest man out of me? We can call your Dad and Mum and have them be there with us."

Her smile hurt her cheeks and she nibbled her lip to keep from crying with joy, "Was that your proposal, Mr. Eames?"

He leaned up on his elbow to look at her face, he was as happy as she was. "Was it not to your satisfaction? I was hoping instead of huge diamonds and tokens of affection, which I can provide if you'd like, that you would rather accept nothing but an honest declaration of my love, because I want nothing in exchange for my heart but to have yours."

She shook her head as tears filled her eyes again, "Goddamn it, Eames, you make it impossible to say no."

He grinned as he leaned over and kissed her slow and deep before he pulled away. "So that's a yes, then?"

"Yes that's a yes," Suzanne whispered back as she kissed him again. "But I expect us both to wear rings." She said sternly.

"We can buy those tomorrow."

Before she could say anything, the sound of clicking nails caught both their attention and Suzanne lifted her head to see the fluffy black body of Mr. Heathcliff at her bedroom door staring at her new visitor with a little trepidation.

"Now who is this?" Eames asked grinning at the dog.

"That's Mr. Heathcliff, of course," She answered as she called the dog in the room with a wave. He climbed up onto the bed and nervously put his head down in deference to the other male in the house.

Eames laughed as he reached out to pet him affectionately, "Have you been taking good care of Annie and my little one, Mr. Heathcliff?" The dog inched closer and wagged his tail as if eagerly showing his devotion to his new master.

"He showed up the first night I stayed here," She said with a smile as she shivered slightly in the cold. "I fell in love with him."

"He is adorable," He chuckled as he let the dog lick his hand. "Let's get dressed, love. I want to see the house."

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne got dressed for the second time that day, and then took Eames on a small tour of the house they were going to call home. He was absolutely floored at the story of how she ended up with the place, and stared out from the sliding door over the land with a huge smile on his face. Offering suggestions for landscaping, and dreaming about a small sailboat they could take out for weekend trips. Suzanne smiled as he pulled her close, standing behind her and talking into her ear about the rest of their lives together. He kissed her cheek, his full lips resting against it.

"So how is your new job with Mr. Roth?"

She turned her head completely shocked that he somehow managed to once again know her business. "How do you know I am working with Nigel?"

Eames shook his head, "It is actually an amazing story. The night I wrote you from the pub in Sheffield I happened to run into him and Robert. We got to talking and he informed me of his plans to create a consulting firm, he also told me he was going to steal your talents and I assured him that you would be all for it. He then proceeded to drag me all around the city and drink me under the table, that man is a bloody animal."

Suzanne bit her lip, "I am seriously trying to picture that."

"He also told me that my true love was within my reach, and if I let you go I deserved a life of blue balls and misery."

"I think he likes you," She replied. "Maybe I should give you a job. Do you want to work for me again? It was such an advantageous relationship the last time."

Eames held her close, "Mmm that offer is rather tempting my love, but I am going to have to decline. I already have a position that begins in three weeks."

She spun around to face him completely flabbergasted, and perhaps a little concerned as to what this could mean. "You have a job? Doing what?"

A slow smile spread across his face, "I will be teaching at Bowdoin College starting after Spring Break."

Suzanne shook her head and waived her arms in shock, "Wait, wait, wait, you are going to be a teacher?"

"_Professor_, darling," He replied. "I am taking over a lecture class on 'Chaucer' from a poor gentleman who is too ill to continue teaching and has to retire. In the summer I am taking on a class called 'Sex and Love in Nineteenth Century Literature' and if that goes well I will have additional classes in the fall."

"You are teaching a class on sex and literature to a bunch of college age girls?" She asked with a quirked brow, "They _did_ get a look at you, right?"

He winked at her and playfully backed her into the glass wall of the sliding door, letting his hands come up to rest on either side of her head as he leaned his mouth down to hers, his honey smooth voice driving her crazy.

"Mhm, I had a very lengthy interview with the department chair and he seemed to be rather fascinated with my education and credentials. We talked for four hours about the significance of the development of the English language on the British Isle and its influence on modern oral history."

Suzanne's eyes fluttered closed as he teased her before kissing her, "How on Earth are you going to lecture, there isn't going to be a dry seat in the house."

"Perhaps," Eames chuckled against her neck as tongued her pulse, "But right now I'm more concerned about experimenting with my soon-to-be-wife on the myriad of sexual positions that can be enjoyed by a woman in her delicate condition."

She couldn't do anything but whimper as he reached down to lift her up and wrap her legs around his waist to carry her up the stairs to their bedroom. There was no hurry as he laid her down on the voluminous downy bedding, no fear of being discovered, no lies or deception; it was only the two of them, finally entwined in one another and completely free.

* * *

**And yes Eames can convince you to marry him without a diamond… : )**


	34. Chapter 34

**AN: So I really, really, really wanted to give an interim chapter to show the middle of Suzanne's pregnancy, I figured we needed this exposition before we get to see the little bean! Here we have just Eames as the teacher we all wanted to see in a lecture hall but never did…**

**And some lemony goodness…because…well, you would if you were her. ; )**

**Probably only two more after this…eeek!**

**Please read and review! Please?! Mwah!  
**

* * *

_Boothbay Harbor, Maine_

_2011_

* * *

Two months time generally means very little when put into the general scheme of a lifetime that spans seventy or eighty years, but somehow Suzanne couldn't help but feel that the last two had been so significant that it would prove hard to top- for another four months anyway.

Early June found her and Eames comfortably settled into their little life together. True to his word, they were married that Monday afternoon in March at City Hall in Bath. Her mother had nearly had a heart attack when she told her, but her father stealthily informed her that he had already been asked permission for her hand, "by a true gentleman this time".

The ceremony was simple, and she wore a long sleeved Michael Kors wrap dress with a decent but respectable v-neck plunge, and a hem that fell just below her knees with bright red shoes to match her bright red lips. Her mother had enjoyed the joke, referencing her first wedding in white, where she'd been less than impressed with everything. Her hair was loose and free, tumbling past her shoulders and curled into loose waves at the end.

She felt beautiful and so damn happy, and Eames actually bought a decent tan suit for her, but she managed a compromise and let him wear one of his hideous paisley shirts underneath it. After all she was marrying the man for what he was, not what he was wearing, and when the judge quietly proclaimed them man and wife, the dramatic dip and the deep, passionate kiss he gave her in front of everyone fit the roguish attire.

They'd settled on a simple pair of wedding bands, his was nothing but a simple grey ring made of durable tungsten-carbide, and hers was a platinum band with small diamond and dark green emerald baguettes. She didn't want an engagement ring, it really wasn't all that important, and besides, she'd already worn a ridiculous one and God knows that didn't make her happy.

Surprisingly the part about the whole affair that Eames had enjoyed the most was when she came home two days later with her driver's license changed to reflect her new name. They'd christened the dining room table that afternoon.

Suzanne smiled at the memory and stared down at the large bump of her belly. Five months in and there was certainly no mistaking the fact that she was pregnant. Apparently she was taking after her mother again, carrying all in the front and all belly.

Her phone rang and she reached to the side of her desk to answer it with a smile, recognizing the number instantly as Nita's. "Hey."

"Hello!" She said, her voice tired but happy. "What a week I am having. Anyway, I wanted to see what the two of you were doing this Saturday night?"

Suzanne tried to work through her pregnancy addled brain, "Um, Eames usually likes to hang back on Friday, because he has office hours until seven, but we are free on Saturday. What were you thinking?"

"Yusuf has been making me crazy all week about that seafood and tapas place in Boothbay we went to last time. Apparently he has a craving for the lobster and saffron cream that he got there last time. I swear to God this man has an issue with that shellfish, I have no idea how he survived 36 years without it."

She chuckled, "It's a crustacean honey. But we'd love to have you up here. Do you want to stay at the house?"

"No, apparently he got us a hotel for the night, says he wants to see the town or the ocean something like that."

"Oh, well that's good. You want me to make reservations for six?"

"Yeah that sounds amazing." Suzanne could hear a loud chorus of voices on the other end of the phone and Nita talking to them before she came back. "Hey hon, I have to go alright, I'll see you Saturday though."

"Okay, have fun!"

She hung up the phone and Suzanne laughed to herself as the silent house sat around her. She really didn't miss the corporate rat race at _all_. Though quite frankly even though she was working from home these days she was just as busy as she ever had been at her other job.

Nigel and Bob were planning a visit for the Fourth of July to discuss some ideas about expanding the firm and taking on additional staff for when Suzanne had the baby. She was really looking forward to the visit. Though as the only Yankee in a house of Brits, she was prepared to deal with their snark and phrases she had no clue on their origin.

Her stomach rumbled loudly and she looked at the clock. It was a little before eleven. She chewed her lip, Eames had a class that ran until 12:30, and it would be nice to maybe bring him some lunch.

But there was certainly an ulterior motive to her generosity.

Because while decadent, thieving, globetrotting Eames was sexy as hell, he didn't hold a candle to Eames the academic. Suzanne spent countless hours staring at her gorgeous husband while he graded essays at the kitchen table, or while he was completely naked in bed next to her on the weekends doing lesson plans between their lovemaking. Once the weather had started to warm up, he had a new habit of sipping his morning coffee on the deck in his tacky robe as he stared off into the sunrise and composed original poems and short stories.

He was apparently compiling a memoir of some sorts for publication to fulfill his requirements for active work in the English Department at Bowdoin. He wouldn't let her read it, and she was of the sneaking suspicion that it would end up being just another reason that she never, ever wanted to let him go.

And Eames in a lecture hall…_please._

She'd snuck into one of his classes when he first started and actually left the class when it was over, which was on a completely _unsexy_ topic of the _Canterbury Tales_, with soaking wet panties from his voice alone. Judging by the way that his three fall classes already had waiting lists, she wasn't the only one who felt that way.

But her selfish and brazen fantasies aside, what made her happiest was the fact that _he_ truly enjoyed it. She'd been worried that without his constant traveling and excitement the novelty of their calm life would eventually wear off for him, but he'd assured her with a smile that the world wasn't going anywhere and that the two of them would be free to travel again someday.

He'd told her that he thought his wandering for all these years was because he was looking for something, and he'd found that something with her. His restless heart was quiet for the first time in his life and he was truly satisfied.

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne left Mr. Heathcliff sunning himself on the carpet in front of the sliding glass door as she breezed out in a simple sleeveless heather gray cotton ankle length dress, a thin crotched cap sleeved black shrug over the top, and her black ballet flats. Thanks to their impending little one her beautiful stilettos had been sidelined for the moment. Her hair was swept up in a casual ponytail and she had on very minimal make up.

It was nice to be subtly elegant again.

She unlocked her brand new black Audi Q5 SUV, frowning at the still painful memory of trading in her beloved Mercedes, but unfortunately in her current "delicate condition" and with the upcoming arrival of the baby, _and_ the Maine winter, Eames had told he felt much more secure with her riding in a vehicle that was a little taller and had all wheel drive.

He kept the R8, naturally.

Though with the way she was rapidly expanding it wasn't going to be much longer until getting in and out of that damn thing was going to be impossible.

The weather was absolutely gorgeous, not a cloud in the sky and hovering right around seventy, a perfect early summer day. She drove to Mae's Café, a cute little place near the school to pick up a couple sandwiches. A curried chicken salad with golden raisins, celery and red onion on a toasted ciabatta roll for Eames and for herself an insanely wonderful grilled cheese with cheddar, slices of tart green apples and bacon.

While she was patiently waiting for her order, she picked up a copy of the Wall Street Journal and perused the financial section. She laughed out loud when she came across a headline buried on page six.

_Fischer Morrow CEO, Richard Jensen to wed in the South of France next month._

Suzanne stared at the black and white picture of Richard, in one of his bespoke power suits, and on his arm was an obviously bleach blonde woman in a black cocktail dress that looked like she weighed about 90 lbs. She rolled her eyes as her name was called for her order and just like that she folded up the newspaper and left it behind on the stand behind her just like any other customer. After grabbing a couple bottles of water, a small bag of pita chips and two homemade chocolate chip cookies, she was out the door with her delicious smelling cargo.

Bowdoin College was about 45 minutes from their home in Brunswick. The campus was gorgeous, littered with maple and oak trees and academic buildings that dated back to the early 1800's. It was worlds away from the congested Boston campus of Northeastern that she had attended as a girl, part of her wondered if old age had stolen her need for stimulation, because there was just no way she could live in a city again. Then again Los Angeles probably had a lot to do with that.

Suzanne milled with the thinned crowd of summer students as she made her way to the classical red brick structure of Massachusetts Hall and the English Department.

His office was on the third floor at the end of a long corridor, she walked briskly down the hall and checked her phone, she had plenty of time to drop off lunch on his desk and then sneak into the lecture hall for a few minutes to catch him finishing up. She fished her keys out of the bottom of her black Coach bag and grabbed his office key just as she reached the small door.

A smile automatically came to her face as the sight of the small plexi-glass holder on the wall that proclaimed this to be the office of: _Professor E. Charles Eames_, _English Department. _

Only he could pull that name off and have it not be pretentious.

She unlocked the door and turned on the light, the place was tiny, reminding her of the cramped "broom cupboard" that Stephen Miles used to complain about constantly that stunted his ability to think.

It was sparsely furnished, a wooden desk with cables for his laptop strewn on top was in the center of the room, a desktop calendar had various notes scribbled on it, a phone, two chairs for anyone visiting in front of it, a bookshelf in the corner, a coat rack by the door and Suzanne beamed at the massive framed degrees on the wall from Oxford that she'd ordered for him when he started.

She told him he should be proud of his achievements, and it was time to display it for the world to see.

The only personal touches in the room were a small silver frame on the corner of his desk that contained a copy of the old photo of the two of them in Paris, and another little picture of her 18 week sonogram. The little peanut had kept its legs firmly crossed throughout the entire thing and they were unable to determine the sex no matter how much the doctor tried.

Eames had teasingly whispered that if it was a girl her legs had better stay that way.

Suzanne smirked as she left their lunch on his desk and locked the door, eager to steal just a few minutes of his class. Just as she turned around she almost ran smack into a woman in her mid-sixties with long braided grey hair, a peasant style dress and turquoise jewelry that screamed hippie. The woodsy patchouli smell that wafted from her definitely sealed the deal. She looked over Suzanne with a quick sapphire gaze from behind a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. It wasn't until her eyes went down to the prominent bump in her belly that a light went on.

"Oh, my, you must be Edward's wife," She breathed with a friendly smile.

"I am," Suzanne answered quietly.

The woman extended her hand, "I am Mary-Ellen Courtemanche, Professor of Women's Studies and Eastern Religion."

She shook her hand firmly, "Suzanne Eames, very nice to meet you."

"Now I have to tell you what an utter privilege it is to work with such an intelligent, well mannered gentleman like your husband," Mary-Ellen said earnestly, her tons of bracelets jingling as she waved her hands around. "He is so charming and so helpful, just a joy to have as an office neighbor."

Suzanne had to bite her tongue at the subtle shade of blush that dusted the older woman's ears, "Oh, he's a charmer all right."

"Ooh, before I forget, I gave him a couple of incredible books on essential herbal oils and we discussed a few prenatal massage techniques for you. He mentioned that you work a lot on the computer and your back gets sore."

She nodded slowly, suddenly smiling at the fact that her husband was talking about her to his colleagues. "Yes, it certainly does."

The older woman gestured for Suzanne to come closer and she leaned in as she dropped her voice, "We also discussed a few important sexual techniques he wanted to try to minimize stress as your belly gets bigger and bigger. So if you have any questions, we can talk about that after you try them."

She was as red as a tomato. "Oh, thanks, that's very generous of you."

Mary-Ellen winked at her, "He's just finishing up in room 113, packed house as always. You should go listen in."

"I think I will," Suzanne managed with a smile, "Very nice to meet you Mary-Ellen."

"Likewise, have a lovely day."

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne snuck down to the lecture hall and quietly opened the door. It was literally packed, every seat out of the 100 or so was full. He was standing with his back to her, wearing a pair of charcoal grey pants that hung off his tight ass perfectly and the salmon colored polyester shirt she loathed. He'd rolled the sleeves up past his elbows and he was writing down a few dates important to the life of the celebrated Romance Era poet John Keats.

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted an empty chair near the aisle and she made her way to it. It wasn't until she sat half of her butt down did she realize that she couldn't get her big belly behind the half desk that was there. After a minute of fumbling, a choice few mumbled words, and a couple of stares from the size zero college age bitches around her, Suzanne managed to somewhat sit down.

It would seem that her moving around drew some attention, because her husband had turned around to lean against the desk at the front of the chalkboard to face the class. His grey eyes lit on her and his full lips curled into a smile of genuine amusement at the way she was half in and half out of the desk.

"Now we end on a personal favorite of mine, John Keats, who like so many was not appreciated until he was long gone." His smooth voice filled the perfectly silent hall, and Suzanne was amazed to notice that there wasn't one person who wasn't paying complete attention to him.

"He was dead at 25, wrote for only six of those years, and was only a published author for four of those six, and yet in the same amount of time as you all will go about earning your degree, he composed arguably some of the greatest written words the English language has ever known."

He stared up at Suzanne and a small laugh came from his chest as he continued. "I actually find it wonderfully ironic that this man, who writes some of the most starkly sensual prose I have ever heard, was repeatedly condemned for his use of 'crude, common diction' that several critics attributed to his not attending, Eaton, Harrow or Oxford, and instead languishing in the dregs of public University at King's College in London."

A hand went up at the front of the class and Eames nodded towards and impeccably dressed blonde young man. "Didn't you attend Harrow and Oxford?"

"Mmm, _someone_ actually read my little blurb in the course catalogue," He answered playfully. "And yes, I attended both, which is why, unlike my handsome friend Keats, my work will never be accused of being, 'A Don Juan style of mixing up sentiment and sneering that is unfit for the ears of ladies'; well, at least not the first half anyway."

The class laughed and he lifted up his watch noting the time, "Well, I think that is all for today. I'd like you all to take a look in the book at Chapter 14 where we deal with Keats' work, especially his love letters. We'll be discussing those in depth more in the next class."

"Any chance you could read us one, Professor?" A high pitched voice from the front of the room sighed.

Eames smiled up at Suzanne, "I _suppose_, I have a spare five minutes to entertain you all." He reached into his briefcase to pull out a dog-eared copy of poetry, flipping back and forth until he found one he wanted. "Now this was written in October 1819 to a young woman, Fanny Brawne, who would come to be the love of his short life."

_My dearest Girl,_

_This moment I have set myself to copy some verses out fair. I cannot proceed with any degree of content. I must write you a line or two and see if that will assist in dismissing you from my Mind for ever so short a time. Upon my Soul I can think of nothing else The time is passed when I had power to advise and warn you against the unpromising morning of my Life - My love has made me selfish. I cannot exist without you - I am forgetful of evey thing but seeing you again - my Life seems to stop there - I see no further. You have absorb'd me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving - I should be exquisitely miserable without the hope of soon seeing you. I should be afraid to separate myself far from you. My sweet Fanny, will your heart never change? My love, will it? I have no limit now to my love - You note came in just here - I cannot be happier away from you - 'T is richer than an Argosy of Pearles. Do not threat me even in jest. I have been astonished that Men could die Martyrs for religion - I have shudder'd at it - I shudder no more - I could be martyr'd for my Religion - Love is my religion - I could die for that - I could die for you. My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet - You have ravish'd me away by a Power I cannot resist: and yet I could resist till I saw you; and even since I have seen you I have endeavoured often "to reason against the reasons of my Love." I can do that no more - the pain would be too great - My Love is selfish - I cannot breathe without you._

_Yours for ever  
John Keats_

Suzanne listened to his voice, the way he wove the immensely sensual words made her breathing hitch, but when he looked up from the book and stared at her as her recited the last half of the letter from memory, his grey eyes burning with lust and passion, it set her on fire. Her pulse was racing, and between her thighs, there was a molten heat that was making everything engorged and so sensitive.

She wanted him, and she couldn't wait until tonight.

Eames finished the letter and dismissed the class, reminding everyone of their reading assignment, and of an essay that was due to him by the end of the next week on Byron, Shelley or Keats. The class funneled out and she less than gracefully slid out of the tiny desk and slowly made her way down to the front of the lecture hall. He was packing up his books as she put her hands behind her back and sighed loudly, imitating the high-pitched breathless voice of the student earlier, "Any chance I could steal your attention, Professor? I've been working so hard in your class; I'd do _anything_ for extra-credit."

He chuckled as he turned around to pull her into a hug, paying no mind to the fact that he was still in the classroom as he took her mouth in a hot, searching kiss. His hand came up to cradle her neck while the other settled around her waist, pulling her belly flush with his body. Suzanne sighed as his tongue probed hers in the lazy, slow and impossibly erotic dance she loved more than anything, before pulling away, his lips curling into a satisfied smile.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit this glorious afternoon, my love?" He murmured as he began to nibble at her lips again.

"I brought you lunch," She whispered as her hands ran up his muscular chest, almost purring at the feeling of his hard body. "But after that letter, I think I need a little personal lesson time with you, Professor."

"Is that right?" He asked with a smile.

"Mhm, I was thinking we could try a little girl-on-top chair sex, it is supposed to be good for the belly." She let her hand trail down to rub the taut skin of her stomach and then moved to cup him through his pants, finding his arousal standing up proud and tall. "What do you think, baby, you want to sit behind your desk and let me take you for a ride?"

"You, gorgeous, filthy little minx," Eames growled. "Let's go."

They managed to get back to his office in record time and he locked the door and pulled the shades as he dumped his briefcase and laptop bag on the ground. He sauntered behind his desk and took a seat in his sturdy, wooden chair as he unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his pants and slowly pulled the zipper down as he pulled out his magnificent hardness with a teasing stare as he gave himself a playful stroke.

"Come on over and have a seat, love," He growled.

Suzanne sauntered over and hiked up her dress, inch by inch to expose the creamy, soft skin of her legs and showing off a pair of black lace panties. She watched him stare at her with rapt interest as she slowly shimmied out of them, his hand absently stroking his cock as she straddled his lap. He moved his pants out of the way before she grabbed his shoulders and let him hold himself straight up so she could lower herself down onto his hardness. She had to bite her lip as she slowly bobbed up and down until she had swallowed him whole in the most intimate embrace.

"Christ, love," He moaned lowly as she began to rock back and forth in a slow ride, letting her weight rest on her feet and his shoulders to give her more freedom to rise up. "You feel fucking amazing."

She tried to reply, but the way he began to thrust up as she bottomed out, was taking her breath away. It was on the verge of too deep, but it was too damn good to stop. He leaned up to take her lips in a desperate kiss as his hands reached under her dress to cup her backside hard, holding her in place as he snapped his hips up in a faster pace.

"Oh!" She gasped, her vision starting to blur around the edges as her body suddenly raced to climax, "Just like that, you are so good, baby."

"Come, darling," He begged as he kissed her again, shamefully whispering his own pleasure. "Come all over me."

Suzanne's eyes rolled back into her head as she bit her lip to stay quiet as she felt her body finally release in a furious rush, clenching wildly on his perfect staff before he followed right after. His hands dug into her soft flesh as he silently moaned out his end, shooting his seed into her depths with a gush of warmth.

They stayed like that for a few minutes more, as Suzanne gently cupped his face in her palms and kissed him slowly, simply basking in the afterglow. She rested her forehead to his and he rubbed her legs, the moment lulling her into such calm contentment that she almost missed it.

It was a tiny flutter deep in her belly.

Her head snapped up and she stared in awe at Eames. "I think I just felt it move."

"Darling," He whispered as he moved his hand to touch her belly with a reverent caress. "Now if we can only get the little thing to flash the goods we'll be all set."

"There is nothing wrong with modesty." She giggled as her stomach loudly rumbled. "Apparently someone is hungry."

Suzanne climbed off and was rather creative with some wet wipes in her purse to clean them both up so they could get dressed and she could set out lunch. It wasn't a moment too soon, because they had both barely taken a bite of their sandwiches when there was a knock at the door.

Eames quirked and eyebrow and stood up, wiping his hands on his pants as he opened the door to see Professor Courtemanche's smiling face. "Good Afternoon, Mary-Ellen, what can I do for you?"

"Nothing much, I saw your wife earlier and I remembered something else I wanted to give you two." She handed him a couple books with a smile and a conspiratorial wink. "Enjoy."

He grinned back and nodded, "As always I defer to your immense knowledge, darling." Without a word he shut the door and walked back to his desk.

"What was that about?"

"Just a colleague sharing knowledge for the betterment of our lives," The wolfish smile on his face should have given it away. "After all if we can't travel there is no reason we can't explore new things."

He handed over two thickly bound hardcover books; the _Kama Sutra_ and a manual on Tantric Yoga and Suzanne's face glowed bright red as she read the titles.

"We really have to discuss your workplace conversations, Professor."

* * *

**Education is always important…you should study for hours if necessary ; )**

**So, I have already decided, but boy or girl?**


	35. Chapter 35

**AN: And I can't even handle it. **

**I want to laugh and cry at the same time. This story intimidated me like nothing else when I first thought about it a few months ago, because let's face it, taking on something like Inception and Chris Nolan is not for the faint of heart. Not to mention the force of nature that is Eames. But thanks to the incredible help of two of the loveliest friends, Mals86 and WinterIsComing01, I was able to write not one but two stories that I am so damn proud of. I never could have done this without your constant idea trampolines, jokes and delicious dirty puns, you have made me a better writer and I cherish you both for it. Thank you so very much.**

**A special shout out to Annabanana314 and allaboutthegray, thank you for always being too kind, and to everyone else who left a review and showed your support, I can't tell you what it means.**

**So now we have the only ending that Eames and Suzanne deserve. **

**I hope that you all enjoy…**

**One last time, please leave me a review…please ; ). Much, much love to you all. **

* * *

_Boothbay Harbor, Maine_

_September16th, 2011 _

* * *

If there was one thing that pissed Suzanne off more than anything else it was being late for something, and right now her baby was coming up on _eight_ days past the due date. She was huge, her breasts were swollen out almost two cup sizes larger than normal, and she hadn't been able to see her damn feet for a month.

She was uncomfortable, irritated, and goddamn it she just wanted this fucking kid OUT.

She huffed angrily as she tried to get comfortable in bed, lying on her side and wedging the body pillow between her knees and under her belly as she flipped on the flat screen TV she'd installed into the bedroom when sitting on the couch was no longer comfortable.

Even poor Mr. Heathcliff was giving her a wide berth tonight. The dog was lying out in the hallway, as if trying to keep himself out of the path of her anger.

She had gone to the doctor today alone, Eames had an important department meeting that he couldn't get out of to settle his affairs before he took paternity leave, and while she was there, her physician told her with a shrug of the shoulders that there was no sign that she was dilating, but she was effaced and seemed normal, the baby was just taking it's time. He wanted to give her the next two days to let it happen naturally, but if not, she had an appointment on Monday to be induced at noon.

Her phone beeped next to her and she reached out, it was a text from her mother asking her how she was feeling. She put it back not even wanting to reply. If one more person told her their "secret" for going into labor she was going to lose it. Her mother had insisted that she exercise and eat spicy food, Mary-Ellen had given her a god-awful nasty tea, and even Nita had brought up a cream cheese from a local bakery in Massachusetts that was famed to do the trick.

No such luck.

In fact, she had surprised her normally very stoic, and frankly Arthur-at 50-clone OB, Dr. Andrew Ferland, this afternoon when she'd demanded something effective. He matter-of-factly stared over his wire-rimmed glassed and remarked in a flat voice that, "Vigorous sex is usually the best."

She was already planning on asking for it the _minute_ he walked in the door.

And to top it all off she'd had indigestion and gas pain since dinner…now that was sexy.

As if responding to her irritation the little person in her belly gave a hard kick to her bladder and she hissed at the pain. She rubbed her stomach with a soothing hand as she sighed with a reluctant smile. "Yes, I know you are already going to be a stubborn ass just like your father, but don't you want to come out and meet us already?"

They still hadn't been able to get a clear read on the ultrasound for the sex, and the doctor was willing to bet 60-40 that is was a big boy based on his estimated weight, but he couldn't be sure. Eames had been quick to grumble that those weren't even decent gambling odds.

She had refused to even think of names out of stubbornness.

So they'd settled with painting the nursery bright yellows and greens, which worked for either sex. Apparently Eames was of the opinion, thanks to several articles he'd read, that he didn't want to impress the stress of gender stereotyping on his child with pinks or blues because he said it was a hindrance to establishing a healthy and balanced sense of self.

Suzanne just rolled her eyes and concentrated on establishing a menagerie of stuffed zoo animals and organizing the changing table.

It was a little after eight when she heard him pull into the driveway and heard Mr. Heathcliff rush downstairs in a flurry of whooshing fur and clicking nails on the hardwood.

"Hey, good boy," Eames' tired voice drifted up to the second floor. "Where's your beautiful Mum?"

He trudged up the stairs and Suzanne lifted her head off the pillow to smile a quick grin at him before he shuffled into the office to drop off his briefcase and his laptop and finally walked into the bedroom. He sat down on the bed with a huff and took off his shoes before rolling over to snuggle up behind her. His strong arms pulled her close as he nuzzled into her soft robe burying his face behind her ear.

"Hello, love, did you miss me?"

"Mhm," She sighed. "Doctor says no sign of labor. We have an appointment Monday at noon."

"Not much longer then," He rubbed her belly before moving his hand to her hip so he could massage low on her spine. "Everything is all set on my end. The Dean wanted to talk to me about an upcoming vacancy in the department chair."

"Already?" Suzanne said with a smile as his hands continued to knead her back. "I am so proud of you, baby."

He smiled, "I am good at what I do."

She moaned pleasantly as he worked a particularly hard knot of muscle in her lower back, "You are the best."

Eames chuckled and shifted his weight, "Is there anything I can do to make you comfortable, my darling?"

Suzanne blushed as she recalled her earlier petulant thoughts, "Actually there is something that will help. I asked the doctor the best way to go into labor, and he was of the opinion that really good sex is the best way to do it."

"Was he now?" He said moving his hand to cup her backside.

She tried to wiggle her hips back into his to find the arousal she knew would be waiting for her. "_Vigorous_ sex, I believe was the term he used."

He laughed as he stood up and quickly made short work of his suit coat, shirt, pants and socks before he jumped back into bed and slowly peeled her robe off of her to expose her full breasts and her tight stomach, stretched to the limit with his offspring. She was so damn beautiful.

Eames cradled her in his arms as he reached carefully between her legs to find her already wet, "Do you want it like this?" He whispered, referencing the spooning position that had been the most comfortable for her in the past couple of months. She nodded and he gently lifted her leg and held it up as he maneuvered himself into her with a slow, continuous push.

She moaned at the feeling of his thickness moving in and out, it was hitting everything, but at the same time it wasn't enough. From this angle the penetration was shallow, thanks to her inability to move her hippo-sized body the way she wanted. Suzanne bit her lip as his hot breath puffed onto her neck.

"What's wrong, darling?" He asked as he kept up the motion.

"It's not enough," She finally whispered. "I want you deeper, but I can't roll onto my hands and knees and I don't want to be on top."

Eames was silent for a minute as if he was contemplating something before he pulled out and got on his knees; straddling her lower leg and leaning back to hold her other leg bent against his chest as he slid into her sideways.

"Oh, _fuck_," Suzanne gasped, his cock felt huge this way, stimulating parts of her inner walls in a way that made it feel completely different. He started a fluid, fast bucking motion with his hips and she completely lost her mind.

"Is this better?" He managed to groan out as his chest heaved with the intensity of the sensations that were taking hold. "Christ, darling, you are going to make me come so hard."

Suzanne couldn't think. She was too heavy to move, and all she could see out of the corner of her eye was a masterpiece of tattooed muscle and ecstasy on his gorgeous face as he moaned his pleasure though his full lips. Somewhere in the reaches of her mind she was mortified with the things she was thinking, and when she started speaking out loud as her insides began to clench up and tighten, she faintly hoped her child's first recollections of hearing their parent's voices wouldn't be this.

Because she begged him in a desperate voice to, _please, please fuck her like an animal_ and that _his cock was magnificent _and _he should take the pussy he owned._

Her entire body quaked and shifted as her orgasm took hold of her with a vicious seize, she screamed her release to the air, fisting the sheets as her insides clenched and released in blindingly intense waves. She came for what felt like an eternity, and she was so far gone that she didn't even feel Eames moaning out his end.

"I think you've killed me, love." He sighed as he gently pulled out of her and cuddled at her back again, placing kisses along her cheek and her hairline. "That was transcendent."

Suzanne smiled and then grimaced as a painful cramp tightened up her body. She'd had Braxton-Hicks contractions for a month or two now, but this felt different. She hissed her discomfort and he was instantly alert.

"Are you alright?"

She bit her lip, "I have had indigestion all night, and I think I have gas or something, because it is killing me, sorry, I know it's not hot after-sex talk."

"Are you sure it's not labor contractions?"

"I think I'd know," She grumbled sharply as another one hit a couple of minutes later.

"Because you have done this before," He mused with the pleasant condescension generally reserved for Arthur.

She frowned angrily as she managed to rock herself into a seated position, "Can you _not_ be an arrogant asshole right now?" She felt like she had to pee so she pulled on her robe and waddled out to the bathroom, trying to move faster when she felt something trickling down her leg, first in a little drip, then a steady stream.

"What the FUCK!" She yelled, completely irritated with the situation. Of all the humiliating things she'd dealt with in nine months, now she had less bladder control than the damn dog. "Honey, can you help me, I totally think I just pissed on the floor."

He was there in an instant as she flipped on the bathroom light and stared at the puddle on the white tiled floor. It was clear with a reddish tint to it. Eames' eyes went wide as he stared at it and then back up to her. "I don't think that's urine, love."

Suzanne's heart began to hammer as she doubled over in pain. "Ow!"

"You're in labor." He announced as he frantically ran into the bedroom to grab his phone, years of evading being shot and dismembered by shady corporations and his Special Forces training helped him concentrate as he called Dr. Ferland and then Suzanne's mother and father to let them know that, "the time had finally come."

He helped her get dressed and threw on clothes as he grabbed her little pre-packed suitcase. He fed Mr. Heathcliff and texted Suzanne's father to make sure that he was still on for coming to the house to bring Floyd and Stella so the three dogs would be together.

His stomach was twisting in knots as he helped her in the Audi SUV and drove the half hour to the hospital in Bath. Eames tried not to shake as she held his hand, squeezing it every time a contraction hit. This was it, in mere hours he would be a father, responsible for a tiny little life that would depend on him to be there for the rest of his life.

"Just a little further now," He reassured her with a trembling voice as they finally pulled into the brightly lit parking lot of Mid-Coast Hospital.

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne was whisked from the lobby up to a labor and delivery room and Dr. Ferland was in a few minutes later, looking polished as always, despite it being almost eleven on a Friday night.

"So, I take it vigorous worked," He mused in his flat tone as he reached up inside her to check her progress, "Because you are definitely about four centimeters already." He looked over his glasses at Eames, "Apparently you did the trick, my friend."

Normally, under any other circumstances he would have had a million comebacks for him, but right now there was nothing. He just smiled wanly and nodded.

Her mother showed up two hours and fifteen minutes later, and she was in full mother hen mode as she breezed into the room to see her daughter lying on her side and Eames was carefully rubbing her back as she huffed and puffed out her pain.

"How far along are you?" She asked as she adjusted her glasses.

"Six centimeters," Eames answered. "She's decided to forgo the epidural."

"You are doing it natural?" Her mother asked.

"That was the freaking idea," She grumbled angrily.

"Has she been this pleasant all day?"

Eames smiled and leaned over to kiss her sweaty forehead, "Of course, Mum, she's been a peach."

"I hate you both."

:o:o:o:o

Agony.

There was no other way to describe it. Suzanne was in labor for almost twelve hours before she started pushing. The doctor was respectfully instructing her to bear down and push, and both Eames and her mother each held one of her legs. She was panting and heaving through the contractions and the urge to push was just overwhelming.

She faintly remembered Dr. Ferland remarking with awe that she wasn't tearing at all and she managed to grunt out that she's spent "nine _fucking_ months" making sure she didn't. Eames had been more than eager to massage and stretch her every day, and apparently it had worked.

But the whole time that she was grunting, groaning and occasionally swearing, he was right by her side. Taking her abuse and then feeding her ice chips or rubbing her back, or getting a cool cloth for her face while he constantly whispered in his smooth, calm voice how stunning she was and how in awe he was of her strength.

Suzanne let out a pained yell and the doctor moved in, "We have crowning here, you want to see it?"

"No!" She snapped, "I want it the fuck out of me!"

Eames actually felt a little green around the gills after he peeked, he really, _really_ shouldn't have done that. There was no way he was ever going to look at that and not think it was the most powerful thing in the fucking universe- _ever. again_.

"And I bet you thought you were the biggest thing ever going in there," Her mother cracked from the other side of the table.

That was enough for Suzanne to laugh hard through the last big push as the head came out and the doctor suctioned the airway, "And one more _hard _one and… you are done." He announced as the shoulders pushed out, and finally he stood up with a bundle in his arms.

"Woah, we have a big boy, ladies and gentleman. Heck of a job, Suzanne."

"Thank you," She whispered as she started to cry. Her body was still overwhelmed with the hormones and trauma of labor and delivery, it made processing everything difficult.

It all happened in slow motion to Eames, he stared at the glowing white bundle with chubby arms and legs and finally there was a deafening scream. It the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. He couldn't move for a moment, and his eyes watered with tears as the doctor looked right at him.

"You want to cut the cord, Dad?"

His hand was shaking so badly he could barely manage to hold the scissors. He was a _father_; he was somebody's father now. The enormity of the responsibility threatened to overtake him, but as the doctor wiped him off and placed him right on Suzanne's chest, he felt it all come together.

This was his family. He was the lonely little orphan boy no longer. He was a husband and a father, he had people who cared about him and loved him.

The nurses picked up the little one to clean him off and quickly weigh and catalogue whatever they needed to, before wrapping him up in a blanket and putting a cute cap on the top of his head. Suzanne lowered the top of her hospital gown as she took him into her arms to encourage him to latch onto her nipple for the first time to feed.

Eames had to cough hard against the lump of overwhelming emotion in his throat as he leaned down to kiss his wife. "You did incredible, my love."

Pauline was sobbing as she kissed them both, "I have to call your father. Honey, you did so good, I am so proud of you."

"Thanks Momma," Suzanne whispered, completely enthralled with the little thing that was eagerly suckling on her. He had blue-green eyes and a dusting of brown hair on his head, and she could swear already that he had his father's lips.

"He has your eyes," Eames said quietly as her mother left, leaning in to kiss the top of his son's head. "Ten fingers, ten toes, my God he's perfect."

"We never did pick out names," She mused, unable to look away from the new love of her life and his chubby cheeks.

"What do you like?"

She smiled and looked up at him, "It's your first son, baby; it's up to you."

He was quiet for a minute, chewing his lip. "What about William? It's a good name, and a bit of a tribute to your family, yeah?"

Suzanne beamed, "William Edward Eames sounds like a proper English gent."

Eames chuckled warmly, "He's his father's son, and he'll be destined for the hallowed halls of Oxford, Cambridge if he has an off day while testing."

"What about Harvard?" She asked with a quirked brow, "He's got strong MassachusettsYankee blood in him after all."

He scoffed, "Right, and I am sure your oldest University is excellent love, it's just that _ours_ is five hundred years older and therefore better."

She rolled her eyes, "Whatever you say, Mr. Eames."

"Glad we have come to an accord, Mrs. Eames," He replied as he leaned in to take her lips in a deep kiss.

:o:o:o:o

The two of them managed to get a few hours of sleep before phone calls and visiting hours started. Suzanne's parents came back around four to see the baby; her mother was thrilled with little Will and wouldn't give him up the entire time she was there, except to give Eames an impromptu lesson on changing his first diaper.

Suzanne was trying not to laugh hysterically, because her lower body was still extremely tender, but to see him standing there with a little towel thrown over his broad, muscular shoulder while her mother explained the finer points of not ending up with a face full of pee from a little penis. And to see him taking the situation as seriously as anything he'd ever studied in his life was just too goddamn adorable.

They left around six, and Eames was rocking the baby by the window when a knock came on the door and Nita's head popped around a minute later. She walked in with Yusuf, waving her hands and silently screaming out her exaggerated joy. Suzanne laughed as she leaned down to kiss her before running over to see Eames and the little bundle.

He had her sit down and gently put the baby into her arms. "Oh, my goodness he is so sweet, look at those green eyes and those full lips, he looks just like the both of you!" She gushed as she stared at him. "What's his name?"

"William," Suzanne answered quietly.

Nita looked up at Yusuf and smiled, her new diamond engagement ring sparkling as much as her chocolate brown eyes were, "I want one of these."

"You do?" He replied with a smile and a wink. "I think we can work on that my dear one, _after_ the wedding."

Yusuf lifted up a bag and Suzanne's green eyes instantly lit up, "Is that what I think it is?"

He nodded, "Nita insisted that we stop and get you sushi and brie cheese since you have been starved of them for nine long months."

"I love you," Suzanne sighed. "Whatever you want after your first baby is born is on me, sweetie."

Eames smiled as he took the bag and moved the tray of her bed so he could set everything out. His phone buzzed in his pocket for the 800th time and he took it out to read it. He laughed out loud, "Uncle Nigel and Uncle Bob have sent flowers and his first Burberry coat."

Suzanne nodded as she grabbed chopsticks and went right for a bite of spicy salmon roll, "We are going to have a botanical garden when we get home."

It was the truth; they had gotten phone calls from Cobb, Arthur and Ariadne, every single faculty member from Bowdoin and even Stephen and Marie Miles congratulating them. Suzanne had cried when she heard the calm Cockney accent on the phone, wishing her the best of luck, and telling her that he knew she would be a success at being a mother just like she was a success at anything else that she tackled.

A lightness had entered her heart when she hung up the phone, a very strange feeling, almost like Mallorie was there with her smiling with her bright blue eyes and reminding her that there was nothing better than to love and be loved. It only took one moment to look up at Eames and see him smiling and laughing with Yusuf and the sound of her cooing son to let her know that she was right.

The couple stayed for an hour or so until William started fussing and Suzanne took him to be fed.

Eames walked to the door with Yusuf and stood at the door as his friend stopped and looked back at him, "You have come a long way since the carefree forger I met in Mombasa, my friend."

He shook his head, "I am still that man. I have just moved a bit on my karmic journey; after all, I am not traveling alone."

Yusuf patted him on the shoulder. "No you are not."

:o:o:o:o

She had always been beautiful to him, but to watch the way that Suzanne nourished his son with her own body made her a goddess in flesh. His Psyche, his Catherine, they had come so far since a dusty warehouse in Paris. Eames smiled to himself as he remembered walking around the Louvre, stalking her with the express purpose of seducing her for nothing more than the conquest.

But he'd met his match in those green eyes; a woman who challenged him, who burrowed deep beneath the hard shell of pain and loneliness that surrounded his heart and brought him to life. She'd healed everything that the years had damaged and broken, he was finally free- he no longer went to bed every night wanting.

And the fact that he'd been able to steal her heart in return was possibly the greatest heist he'd ever pulled off- truly a master thief.

He sat on the chair next to her and stroked little Will's head with his large hand as he leaned in to kiss his wife's soft cheek.

"I can't believe this is the life we get to live," Suzanne smiled as she stared at him with an immeasurable love shining in her eyes. "It feels like a wonderful dream that I never want to wake from. I never thought I could love like this."

"Me neither, my love," Eames answered, laughing at the irony of her words. He didn't even carry his totem with him anymore; he didn't even think about it. "And we get to enjoy it all together."

He leaned his lips down to her ear, whispering the same lines from _Wuthering Heights_ she had said to him long ago with nothing but pure contentment in his voice, "I've dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they've gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the color of my mind."

* * *

**What's that…an Epilogue you say?  
**


	36. Epilogue

**AN: I just HAD to do an epilogue to this story…HAD to. **

**Wanted to say thank you again to all the crazy thoughtful reviews that I have gotten for this story, I seriously can't believe that I finished it! But have no fear, thanks to Miss Winter and her helpful suggestion, and the psycho Muse, I have a new Warrior story brewing : ). Look for that soon.**

**Also I cannot and will not leave Suzanne and Eames alone, with the awesome suggestion of Mals I will be doing a few running long shots of Eames and family as he becomes the father that he always deserved. I definitely appreciate ideas for some family moments, because I have no kids of my own I am open to inspiration…please PM me! **

**So without further ado, I give you this…enjoy and please, one last review? **

**Much love to you all!**

* * *

_Saratoga Springs, New York_

_June, 2014_

* * *

"I should be more nervous, right?" The genuinely puzzled voice of Ariadne floated through the ornately appointed, colonial era hotel suite, "Because I don't feel very nervous."

Suzanne smiled at the still baby-faced 29 year old, as she stood in the mirror in her fluffy white robe and stared at her professional make up and her elegant half up and half down hairstyle. It was a huge change and a _very_ far cry from the normal Bohemian style that the young architect normally wore.

"I wasn't nervous?" Nita piped up from the chaise lounge where she was sitting and rocking her sleeping 18 month old daughter Indira. The little girl looked like a perfect combination of her and Yusuf, with caramel skin, dark hair and two of the biggest brown eyes in the world and had the temperament of an angel. "I am pretty sure Yusuf threw up though. I think we are so calm to keep them from losing it."

"Eames was more interested in the fact that I changed my name two days later, than the actual wedding," Suzanne added with a smile. "He felt the need to…" Her green eyes flitted up to see nine-year-old Phillipa Cobb staring at her with intense interest in her big blue eyes. "…effusively express his amorous feelings in the kitchen."

The young girl scrunched up her nose in confusion and Suzanne couldn't help but smile, she looked exactly like her mother, a mini copy of Mallorie.

"Arthur is having a fit about something I'm sure," Ariadne laughed. "I mean we've been engaged for three years because he couldn't find a venue he liked."

They had finally decided to get married at the Gideon Putnam Resort in the middle of Saratoga Springs State Park after the couple took a drive past the place the prior year. Arthur had been on a business trip and she had absolutely fallen in love with the historic hotel in the middle of unspoiled nature.

The little brunette finally put her foot down, and here they were.

Arthur and Ariadne had effectively retired from the extraction and dream sharing business, right after the entire thing went down with Cobb and Saito. She had taken a position with an architectural firm in New York City, and Arthur had taken a job as an in-house auditor with the Internal Revenue Service in their Wall Street office.

Eames had laughed for a good week about that. Arthur had simply crossed his arms and mildly threatened an income tax audit, and a check with INS for his green card, and Eames had mentioned that his SAS training included covert kidnapping and enhanced interrogation techniques of government operatives- the snarky joke had been continuing back and forth ever since.

Suzanne absently caught sight of her reflection in the full length mirror and stared at the way her dress fit. It was made of a delicate amethyst colored chiffon material over satin with fluttery little cap sleeves and an asymmetrical pin tuck of fabric across the bodice on one side and the waist on the other, it fell down to the ground. She had to give Ariadne credit the color looked as spectacular on her pale skin as it did on Nita's caramel complexion and it flattered their figures both to the point that there was definitely going to be a couple of husbands that were in the mood later on.

And with the matching purple lace negligee that she had on underneath, her seamed thigh high stockings and four inch black Louboutins, she couldn't _wait_ for the moment that Eames figured out what she was wearing.

There was a small knock on the door and the photographer let them know that she would be ready for "dressing" pictures whenever they were.

Ariadne took a deep breath and sighed a little bit of nerves as her mother Theodora, who was her clone and nearly as tiny as she was, got her dress from the closet door. She slid out of her robe, revealing the gorgeous white bustier, garters and stockings that her bridesmaids had given her at her shower. After a little climbing around, she was zipped into the beautiful beaded lace gown. It had a vintage inspired sweetheart neckline, a fitted trumpet skirt and a modest sweep train that made her look like a little doll. Her mother helped her secure her mantilla style veil, as Ariadne admired the delicate appliqué on the scalloped edge of the tulle fabric.

Lastly she stepped into a tall pair of light blue heels with a smile, "My something blue."

"Your something new is your dress," Theodora commented sagely as she kissed her cheek, "And old and borrowed is your late father's handkerchief. He would have been proud of you."

"Thanks Mom."

"You are stunning," Suzanne said gently, trying not to cry. She really didn't want to test the waterproof state of her makeup.

"I love you guys," Ariadne replied, beaming at her reflection. "Well, let's get those pictures going ladies and pop a bottle of champagne; I'm getting married in two hours!"

:o:o:o:o

Eames rolled his eyes and tried to listen as Arthur sat on the stoop outside the in the gorgeous gardens of the hotel and yammered on and on about something or another that was bothering him. From the tiniest tailoring issue with the custom made grey three-piece suits, that he, Cobb, Eames and Yusuf were wearing, to the fact that he wasn't sure if the powder blue shirt and the purple ties would look the appropriate shade once the sun set. A tug at his pant leg pulled him out of his misery to see his three-year-old son William looking up at him with the beautiful green eyes that he'd been given from his wife.

"Yes, son?" He questioned. The little boy pointed with his left foot to reveal that his tiny black dress shoe had come untied. "Ah, a bit of an issue I see." Eames crouched down and tied it quickly before he playfully adjusted the small coat and tie that was a match to his own. "There you go, looking like a dapper gent now."

Will smiled and held out his arms, a Ziploc bag half full of Cheerios dangling from one hand and Eames instantly scooped him up to sit on his arm. The boy leaned on his shoulder and only a moment later was mirroring his father's strange stare as Arthur ran his hands through his gelled hair, concerned about the color of the purple linens.

Will fished into his bag and fed himself a few pieces of cereal before offering one out to Eames with a simple, "Daddy? Snack?"

Eames nodded and opened his mouth for his son to feed him a singular round offering. As he chewed he turned to look at the little boy who had become the light of his life, a perfect combination of him and Suzanne. At three he was already well ahead of where he should be developmentally, and the only thing that seemed to match his intelligence was his stubborn streak. But he was a perfectly behaved little boy thanks to Pauline's brand of discipline that her daughter had channeled; there was no whiny fussing to be had around the Eames household. Will's lips, full like his father's, twisted further as he stared at Arthur as he continued to rambled.

"That is what happens when you become a stick-in-the-mud, Will," Eames explained with a nod. "Stick with your old man and you'll be just fine."

"I have legitimate gripes," Arthur piped up in his direction. "I just wanted today to be perfect; I don't think that's a lot to ask to make sure that my wedding day is perfect for my bride."

"Well," Cobb sighed from beside him, "You are getting married, you need to get used to the whole; 'no matter what you do for your wife it's not going to be perfect thing'. That is pretty much your life from now on."

Yusuf spoke up as he thoughtfully stared off into the forest, "That is the truth, my friend. Sometimes I don't even know why she is yelling, and yet somehow it is something I have done, or not done, given the circumstance."

Arthur made a face, "Any advice?"

"I call them 'small personal victories'," Eames commented. "For example, Annie may occasionally be wrong about something, but instead of telling her I disagree, I wait until she realizes her error. She inevitably asks for my opinion, which I supply, as carefully as her mood dictates, and make sure that I also validate the logic of her incorrect assumption."

"So, you never have an opinion?" Arthur said incredulously.

"I didn't say that," He replied. "I simply wait for the most advantageous time to express my opinion. When she is open to suggestion and eager to accept what I have to give."

"And what is it that you get from it?"

"Mommy gives Daddy lots of kisses," Will said with confidence.

"That's right, son," Eames said with a smirk. "And if Daddy is very good Mum gives him _very_ special kisses." He waggled his eyebrows and the other men rolled their eyes.

Arthur laughed as he stared at someone that he would never have imagined when they met over almost ten years ago, _ever_ calling his best man. But that was before the infuriating Brit stole Suzanne right out from underneath him and became the kind of man that he was shocked to admit that he looked up to. He was a good father, an incredible husband…and he was loathed to admit, a damn good friend.

The photographer showed up a minute later and the guys grouped up as Cobb shouted out to his son James, who was perilously close to a stream near the wood line. They all lined up in the perfectly manicured garden as the early June sun began to fall in the sky. It was coming up to four, just another hour now.

:o:o:o:o

Suzanne gathered her and Ariadne's flowers and handed them off to her mother as she held up her train to negotiate the narrow stairs. Nita was behind her with her daughter in her arms, and Phillipa had her bouquet. "Alright, Ari," She said with a smile, "Let's get down these stairs."

The women hiked and negotiated the old hotel until they came to the side door where the wedding planner was waiting with a smiling Dominick Cobb. Ariadne had lost her father to cancer when she was a little girl, and when it came time to think of the man who would give her away, she wanted someone who meant a great deal to both her and Arthur, a man she'd gone to the bowels of limbo with. Dom had been moved to tears when she asked.

Suzanne fluffed out her train and handed her the huge bunch of white hydrangeas and calla lilies, smiling at Cobb as she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"You look beautiful, Suzanne," he said as a shine of tears filled his eyes and he looked down at the beaming bride. "Ariadne, you are a vision."

"Aww thanks Cobb," She whispered. "How's he holding up?"

"Better than I thought," He laughed, "Which is marginally this side of a nervous breakdown."

Ariadne's mother gave her daughter a kiss before she went to sit down.

The group waited patiently as the violin music started up with the beautiful strains of Pachelbel's Cannon and Philippa took little Indira's hand as the two girls in little plum dresses walked hand in hand down the little path. Nita followed close behind, making sure to keep her little one's eyes forward.

Suzanne waited until her cue stepping out into the sunshine and tossing back her head to free her hair; Ariadne had insisted that she and Nita wear it down with just a professional blow-out. She stared at her small handful of purple centered calla lilies and tried to get her head straight. It didn't help. The minute she turned the corner and saw the guests in their white chairs and the aisle she felt herself choke up, and then when she saw the smile of her little angel the tears came. He was standing like a little man at the foot of her husband.

Her eyes traveled up from her son to take in the man in an immaculately tailored suit that conformed to his muscular build. His eyes were thunderclouds of grey intensity, staring at her with a tempest of passion, lust, need, and above all undying love. Even after years of being with him, of carrying his child, she still felt her pulse quicken and her very core trembled at his presence. They were as insatiable now as they had been when they first met, though admittedly with a three-year-old's little feet running around the house they had to become much more creative with their lovemaking.

But her parents had come into town tonight on a last minute overnight trip and had offered to watch Will so the two of them could have a night alone, she could barely wait. Suzanne snapped out of her sexual delirium and smiled at Arthur as she stood next to Nita and turned to see Ariadne start walking towards them.

It was a beautiful moment to watch two people stare at one another with a look that she knew so well, one where the very world faded away and there was nothing else but the two of you.

:o:o:o:o

It was a wonderful ceremony, and Suzanne couldn't help but make eyes at her husband from across the aisle as they listened to pledges of love and devotion. But it was only ten or so minutes that passed when Arthur and his beautiful new wife were pronounced man and wife.

The crowd clapped and cheered, aided by a whistle or two from both Eames and Cobb. The new couple walked down the aisle hand in hand and off towards the gardens where the pictures were going to be taken. Suzanne grinned as Eames lifted up Will with one arm and cocked out the other elbow to take her arm as they walked down as a family. She winked at a grey haired Stephen Miles as she passed by.

Eames laughed as he leaned down to her ear with a low whisper, "You look luscious, darling."

"Mmm, you are rather delicious yourself," She whispered back.

"Mommy, give Daddy a kiss," Will spoke up as he threw his arms around Eames' neck.

She laughed as they stopped walking, "Oh yeah, what if I want to give _you_ a kiss instead?" She teased as she leaned in and gave him a kiss on his soft cheek.

"No!" He giggled, "Kiss Daddy!"

Suzanne smiled as she took her husband's mouth in a chaste, but somehow still passionate kiss. Leave it up to Edward's son to be obsessed with them showing affection to one another. It was something the three of them genuinely enjoyed though; it was a Sunday morning ritual for Eames and Will to get up and cook breakfast, before bringing it on a tray to eat in their bed as a family. After that they usually snuggled in for a while to listen to Eames read a little bit of poetry, or if Will had been very good, a little educational cartoon on PBS.

But, like any other three year old his interest in his parents quickly faded the minute his bright eyes caught sight of Indira walking next to her mother and father. "Daddy put me down." Eames no sooner complied than the little boy ran right over to the curly haired girl.

Suzanne snuggled closer to Eames as she watched her son stand with his hands shyly behind his back as he approached her. "I think he's contemplating what sort of lines to whisper in her ear," She teased him as she nipped his earlobe playfully.

Eames laughed as his hand snaked behind her body to palm her backside, "Nonsense darling, we've already reviewed the Eros and Psyche story, he's got all the ammunition he needs."

She bit her lip as she felt his fingers stroke the firm muscle of her ass, as if he was absently searching, "Looking for something?" She rasped, unable to keep the arousal out of her voice.

"I feel garters, but not a belt, I am wondering what sort of dirty little knickers you have on under there," He answered.

A seductive grin curled her lip; she could see the photographer getting ready to call them over, so she whispered quietly, "When I bought Ariadne's peignoir at _Aubade,_ I found a lovely little see through bustier slip that matched my dress…" Arthur called them loudly for a picture and she licked his ear. "It doesn't have any panties."

"Naughty minx," He growled as he followed her across the grass.

Suzanne laughed at his words making sure to stay just ahead of him and add a little extra swing in her hips.

:o:o:o:o

The reception was a party like Suzanne hadn't been to in a very long time. Despite the fact that they were all dressed up, it was worlds away from the stuffy cocktail parties and galas that she'd been subjected to in LA. It was in a room with large vaulted arch windows along the walls that let in the trees and scenery around them. One would almost have thought the elegant tables were out in the park itself.

The DJ was great and after the wedding party was introduced, Eames walked up to the middle of the floor to grab the microphone. Suzanne smiled as she noticed a look of trepidation and something akin to fear was on Arthur's face when he started to speak. But as always, her husband turned on his charm in an instant.

He cleared his throat and smiled a Cheshire cat grin. "Good Evening, Ladies and Gentlemen. I wanted to just steal a moment of your time to focus your attention on the two very, very lovely people we are all gathered here to celebrate, Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Collins. Now, Arthur and I have known each other for some time, just about a decade now, and it may surprise you to know that we have been known from time to time to disagree on several things. The art of subtlety and what patterns and fabrics characterize an acceptable suit for example. But when it comes to him marrying Ariadne, I have to say that for once we are in complete agreement. I told you to dream bigger, darling, nice to know you listened."

Arthur rolled his eyes, and Eames winked, sending a quick look to Suzanne and Will before he continued, staring at the couple. "Remember to always be each other's number one, and I wish you a lifetime of happiness together. So, everyone raise a glass in toast, and congratulations you two."

He walked over to give them both a hug and kiss, before sitting back down next to his family. Suzanne kissed him gently as he helped to get his son properly settled on his booster seat. "That was perfect my love," She said with a smile.

"Thank you, darling. A man finds himself to be quite the poet when he lives a charmed life."

:o:o:o:o

It was a little after seven when her parent's peeked their heads into the room to gather Will for his little sleepover. They were staying at a little hotel down the street, and it didn't take two seconds for the little boy to catch sight of "Grammy and Grandpa" before he ran over and jumped into her mother's arms.

"I see once again we are torturing the child by making him spend the night with you guys," Suzanne said with a smirk as her and Eames followed them out to the front door so they could collect his tiny suitcase from their car. They both gave Will a kiss and a hug goodbye and promised that the whole family would eat lunch together tomorrow.

She stood and watched as they pulled away, waving at her little boy until she couldn't see him anymore. Eames was standing behind her, and she could feel the moment that he shifted from doting father to lascivious husband. His warm hand came up to move her hair off her shoulder as he pressed the evidence of his growing arousal against her backside. "We are all alone for the night, Mrs. Eames," He whispered in her ear. "What do you say to a dirty martini and a spin around the dance floor before I ravish you against the nearest hard surface."

Suzanne shivered at the dark promise, "What are we waiting for."

They walked back into the party to see Arthur joyfully spinning Ariadne around to the tune of Van Morrisson's, _Brown-eyed Girl_. The bar was in the corner and they found a spot in the corner next to Cobb as Eames ordered their drinks. She stared out to the floor to see his two children dancing happily in the corner of the room.

He was watching them with a look of wistful pleasure and sadness in his blue eyes. "You've done a good job," She mused with a smile.

Cobb laughed and sipped his drink, "Thanks, but it's not hard. They come from very good stock on their mother's side."

Suzanne reached up to gently squeeze his shoulder, "Their father too." She took a deep breath to try to stem the tears that wanted to come.

He cleared his throat and nodded, "Thanks Suzanne."

Ariadne's smiling face bounded over a minute later with her beaming husband in tow, it was the most free that she'd ever seen the normally stoic and reserved man. "Hey, guys!"

"Looking ever the part of the glowing bride," Eames winked as he waived the bartender over for two glasses of champagne for the couple.

"We were just further discussing the honeymoon that we haven't planned yet," She sighed as she took a sip of the drink she was handed. "He's out of ideas and I want to do something exciting."

Suzanne blushed as she stared at her husband's satisfied smile. "We went to Spain this spring, it was incredible."

"Where?" Ariadne questioned, genuinely interested.

"Seville for Holy Week," Eames replied taking a long sip of his scotch.

Arthur quirked a brow in surprise at the answer, "I didn't take you to be a practicing Catholic, Eames."

"I'm not," He answered, his eyes falling hotly on his wife. "It's quite a feast for the senses, and though I may not be a religious man in the traditional sense, I am rather sure I saw God more than once while I was there."

Suzanne couldn't help the tremble of uncontrollable arousal that surged through her at the memory of that week. It was days of festivals and feasts, and nights full of passion. She had to hold her breath at the memory of one night, where they found themselves completely lost in one another, involving tying his arms to the headboard with her nylons and hot candle wax.

And apparently with the lust and fire in his eyes as he stared at her, he was having the same memory.

"Where was William?" Ariadne asked as she sipped her champagne.

"He was with us," Suzanne answered, "We usually have a two room suite when we travel."

"That kid has more damn stamps in his passport than I do," Arthur groused playfully.

"He'll be a man of the world in no time," Eames answered winking. "He's his father's son after all."

"Yeah, thankfully under his mother's watch," Arthur answered as it garnered a laugh from the group.

:o:o:o:o

Nita and Yusuf disappeared with their little one a little before nine with hugs and promises to meet up for brunch tomorrow. Suzanne and Eames were now two or three drinks in, and as he led her out on the dance floor she was more than a little giddy with vodka and lust. His hands rested possessively on her hips as he pulled her impossibly close to his solid form.

She couldn't help herself, being this close to those plump lips, moist from his tongue and the smoky scotch he was drinking, she had to taste them. She kissed him passionately, caring nothing for the fact that people were watching them. His tongue was smooth and skilled as it tasted her mouth in ever deepening swipes. She pulled away, drunk on him almost as much as she was from the martinis, and she lifted her lips to his ear as she purred a secret, "If you take me tonight we are going to have another baby."

The response was instantaneous. He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her from the party, up the stairs and down the hall to the hotel room they had been rented for the night. It was still silent up here and as they turned a corner to where the door was, it put them out of sight from any eyes that would have happened by; Eames pushed her up against the wall and devoured her mouth in a ravenous kiss.

She'd had a copper IUD put in for birth control right after Will was born, and she'd only had it removed two months ago when they both decided that they wanted to possibly try for another baby. It was funny, there was a time in her life that she used to ovulate and do anything possible not to have a baby, but right now as her husband's mouth was hot on her neck and his rough palms were gathering up the hem of her dress, she relished the thought that this was how she always thought that conception should be; two people with such need and such want in them that they couldn't keep their hands off each other.

"We shouldn't have left so early," She gasped. "What if someone is looking for us?"

"Let them look," He growled fiercely, "Nothing is stopping me right now from making you mine."

Suzanne shivered as he unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall, before lifting her up by her thighs and pressing her into the wall. Her heart pounded in a strange rhythm when she felt his wedding ring snag against the elastic strap of her garter. A flood of liquid arousal surged out to slick the already blazing hot skin between her legs at the realization- this man was_ hers_, forever.

Eames pushed her up with a smooth shift and pulled her down onto his straining body with a flawless motion, burying himself to the hilt. She had to muffle her scream with her hand as he began a furious, driving pace with his hips, hitting her hard and fast.

Suzanne clutched at his shoulder and held the back of his head as he buried his face into her neck. She could feel everything in her tightening and coiling up around his rock-hard cock; she was primed to explode in a mind-numbing orgasm when suddenly she somehow managed to hear voices coming towards them.

"Baby!" She whispered desperately, trying to formulate an articulate thought as he continued to pound her into the wall. "We have to move!"

Eames snarled like an animal, "I'm not fucking stopping, I want you to come, love."

Her heart was hammering, she was so afraid of being caught, but somehow his passionate and primal reply charged her even more. She could hear the voices stop only a few feet from where they were hidden, and when she heard a door unlock, her body gave way and she finally burst on him in an incredible climax. She could hear him moaning, "_Yesss_," in her ear as her insides fluttered and clenched along his length wildly.

Suzanne panted as aftershocks of sensation twitched through her sensitive skin. Eames pulled out of her and quickly lowered her to the ground and pressed against her, she could feel him breathing in and out in deep calm, measured breaths, almost meditating to bring his arousal back under control. He kissed her lips gently before reaching down to pull up his pants to grab the room key and unlocking the door to their room. He smiled as he turned back and lifted her into his arms to carry her across the threshold and into the elegantly appointed hotel room.

With a graceful kick he closed the door and set her down as he flipped on the light and quickly shed his suit in a haphazard pile on the floor. She shook her head as she watched him square off his shoulders, looking at the perfect cut of his muscular form, still hard as a rock even with a sedentary job as a University department chair and professor. Thank God for a life in the country that required hands on labor, and his new found interest in tantric yoga. She could barely stop herself from licking her lips and salivating like an animal at sight of his inked body as it moved towards her.

There was one in particular that he'd added not long after Will's first birthday that she loved the most, on a family trip to Rome with her parents he'd gotten the phrase, '_proud father'_ tattooed under his left collarbone in Italian in a beautiful flowing script. She'd even added her own little bit of decoration, just as she'd promised, just under her left breast on her ribs for both men in her life in delicate cursive, _'Till I die- EW'_. Eames had thoughtfully pointed out that his was already perfect as her maiden name conveniently had the same initial.

"How about showing me that pretty little thing you are wearing, darling," He said darkly as she saw him harden back up to glorious perfection. "I'm still trying to decide if I want it on or off while I fuck you."

Suzanne laughed in response as she slowly unzipped her dress, letting it flutter down to the ground with a whisper of fabric as she stepped out if it daintily with her stilettos still on. She smirked at the way his nostrils flared at the sight of the lace bustier slip that came down just below the flare of her hips. The fabric was so delicate that the rosy peaks of her nipples could be seen right through it, and then lower, her neatly maintained femininity had nothing but a slender patch of hair to stand out.

"Have you made your decision yet, Mr. Eames?" She asked as she bit her lip seductively.

He stalked over and stood inches from her, the power and want radiating at an animal level of ferocity. "Turn around and let me see that ass of yours."

It was the alpha male that he only unleashed from time to time that made her shiver with anticipation, the thought that their joining wouldn't be lovemaking- it would be mating, pure and simple.

She did as she was told and he actually laughed lowly as he stared at the perfectly round bottoms of her ass cheeks peeking out at him from beneath the lace bottom. "You are turning me into an absolute savage beast, darling, and yet with nothing but a simple look you have me powerless on a leash awaiting your command."

There was a strange sense of strength that came into her at his words, and she turned back around to face him, eye to eye as she blinked and stared down at his luscious lips as she whispered, "Take me, Edward, _now_."

In the blink of an eye he had her on the bed. There were no words, no teasing playful banter, before she knew what was happening she was on her back with her long legs pinned up over his shoulders as he plowed straight into her with such force that she swore that he'd reached her very womb.

He was relentless, using long hard strokes to hit the little spot of spongy tissue inside her that made her see stars with every touch. She could barely catch her breath as pleasure assailed her, tears falling from her eyes as she stared up at her husband, cataloguing every feature she cherished on his handsome face. It was the sudden thought that they could be making another life in this very moment that finally drove her up and over the edge. She came, this time with a rush of moisture that covered them both, feeling long undulating waves that made her inner walls throb, gripping him like a tight fist that wouldn't release.

"Annie," He whispered in a hoarse, desperate voice, "I love you, my God, you beautiful creature, I love you, _always_."

She felt him bury his face into the crook of her neck, and a moment later his back arched with the force of his orgasm. His seed drained into her with a long pulse, and she could feel it, shooting deep inside her. He collapsed onto her gently, and she let her legs fall from his shoulders as she kicked off her heels and wound her stocking clad legs around him to hold him close.

There was a long beat of silence as they lay entwined together before Eames spoke against her ear, "What do you think it will be?"

Suzanne smiled, "It's a little early for that, honey."

"Scientific studies claim fertilization can occur in as little as 30 minutes," He answered with a calm voice that she'd come to call his "teacher tone".

"Is that true, professor?" She mused as he leaned up to begin stripping off her negligee and nylons to leave her completely naked beneath him.

"Mhm," He answered as he used the wetness that still clung to her folds to slide his still semi-hard cock back into her. "Though those are generally the fast swimming sperm that carry the 'Y' chromosome, longevity generally tends towards the slower moving females however. So I rather do hope they take their time."

Suzanne chuckled at his answer and she stroked the back of his neck affectionately, a cheeky reply was already forming on her tongue when she suddenly let out a moan of pleasure as she felt him begin to harden inside her once again.

"Then again, I do believe that I've read that, 'spoken plans are only good intentions unless they immediately degenerate into hard work'," He lifted himself up onto his elbows and knees and thrust into her slowly, "And we have all night to work, _hard_, my love."

* * *

**And nine months later we will welcome little Lillian Rachel Eames into the world…he needs a daughter to be a daddy's girl after all ; )**

**Ta ta for now, darlings!**


	37. Author's Note

**AN: Sooo…yeah I managed to stay away for all of a week from these two. I have posted a new story called "The Relationship With the Father" that is basically going to be a whole bunch of one shots that focus on Eames and his life as a husband and father following the events of "Dreams That Have Stayed With Me Ever After". They will run the gamut as far as ratings, because let's be honest, this is Eames that we are talking about here and he never will lose that naughty streak he has.**

**I am also taking requests and looking for ideas for this series! Please check it out and review or PM me with any ideas that you may have!**

**I've also started a Warrior story entitled "Been Drifting For So Long" because La Muse told me to…so please check that out too!**

**Love you all, darlings!**

**Nik ; )**


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